Parlor
by Shini-666
Summary: Everyone likes to imagine Tony will be there when Peter is alone. That he'll swoop in and play dad instantly. He wasn't. Explores Peter's descent into the foster care system and Tony's path to eventually discovering where Spiderman went. A slightly longer Tony takes Peter in story.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Note from the Author:

This is my first dabble into Avengers so have no expectation and you won't be let down. I work full time and foster dogs/puppies in my spare time, I'm writing for the fun of it and can't commit to regular updates but I'll do my best.

Story is not proof-read but thankfully I'm not writing this for money, did my best given the amount of time and energy I have free to put into it.

I'm framing this after SpiderMan Homecoming with May unaware that Peter = Spiderman.

I will be randomly pulling from the MCU but anything that deviates from that storyline should be accepted as my personal path in this story. Same obviously goes for Infinity War didn't happen. IT DIDN'T. (so I will be telling myself until I get to see the next one and my heart hurts less)

This is another one of those 'May dies and Pete lives with Tony' but it's my own spin, we'll see how it goes.

So! That's that. If you like what you see send me a review, they're appreciated and keep me motivated!

Sometimes.

Sometimes things happened. They just happened. Not everything was a great story. Take his parents for example, the only thing worth telling there was that they'd died in a plane crash and that made it interesting to others. He was no Harry Potter. He hadn't been left with uncaring relatives and living under the stairs. They didn't even have stairs- well not in the apartment at least.

In fact, up until the spider bite, Peter was pretty darn sure that he, Uncle Ben, and Aunt May were just NPCs in the game of life. After all they got up, went to school or work respectively, and came home; there was very little that disturbed their routines. Sometimes Peter thought of them like the little guests in one of those tycoon games. Just going about their day, day after day, unaware of the powers that be who might make their life better or trap them all at the end of a roller coaster and watch as the coaster tore through the crowd of trapped guests.

…not that he or Ned had ever done that.

After the spider bite, after Uncle Ben, Pete began to wonder if there was some cosmic order to things. Here he was now a super hero with the necessary tragic backstory right? Wasn't that how it always happened? Always there was something like Uncle Ben, some action on the would be hero's part that set everything in motion.

Peter had made a grave, but understandable misjudgment. He'd assumed there was some order to the randomness of the universe.

There had been no fight the night before. Nothing that led up to it. Just like every Monday night he and May had both returned to the apartment exhausted and wishing the weekend was just a little bit longer. In traditional Monday night fashion, they ordered pizza. May never felt like cooking and Pete's culinary skills were lacking. Pizza was enjoyed along with the traditional Monday night movie and eventually they'd both retire to their own rooms, May to sleep and Peter to sneak out to start his weekly patrol.

Early morning he'd be back, sleeping a few hours before Tuesday's routine began, much like Monday. Peter off to school, still exhausted but wasn't every teen exhausted in the morning? At least he wasn't up all night playing fortnite, he was making a difference in Queens. May would head off to work, just slightly more refreshed than Monday and if only because of the extra cup of coffee.

So. It was like any other Tuesday. May always treated herself on Tuesdays, like a reward for making it through Monday. Each day she'd pack a lunch but Tuesdays, they were Treat Tuesdays. After her lunch and with about twenty minutes to spare she'd head out into the midday rush. Three blocks up a little café waited where she'd get a simple but small snack, a little dessert treat just for her. It varied week to week, oh she had some fall back favorites, but she was interested in trying something new every now and then when the seasons changed. Pete didn't know about her little ritual, only that occasionally, May would come home with a dessert for him too- usually after a good report card or project.

Midday traffic in Queens was no better than traffic any other time. Gridlocked. Cars were never a concern and like the millions of other New Yorkers, May simply walked between them given they never displayed the courtesy of stopping outside of the cross walks. Cars were not a problem. The motorcycle that weaved between said cars was another matter entirely. It was enough. Enough to prove the universe was random.

And it randomly seemed to hate Peter Parker.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two a bit more meat on it. My early chapters will likely find focus on one character and what their dealing with. Primary plans are to go back and forth between Peter and Tony but if the muse strikes, another will be added in.

"So? Anything crazy?"

"Ned."

"I mean…I didn't see any chatter so I'm thinking it was a quiet night?"

A little more forceful, "Ned."

"Yeah probably just an easy patrol, with the usual baddies right?" The larger teen simply continued his one-sided conversation until Peter stopped, blinking Ned Leeds paused as well and looked to him sheepishly.

Peter for his part, glanced around as if trying to say 'Look Ned. Look. Do you realize we're in a crowded hallway right now?' "Sorry..." Ned offered with a shrug and a smile, of course he was instantly forgiven by his best friend.

"It was a slow night." There, he didn't purposefully hold things back, sometimes he just felt that Ned didn't take this as seriously as he ought to. To be fair, Pete had also not taken things as seriously at one point. He'd Vlogged his trip to Germany, that was reckless in so many ways. After the Vulture…after getting the suit back, learning more about the Accords…Pete felt a bigger weight on his shoulders.

He was the friendly neighborhood Spiderman…who was aware of how wicked the world could be just outside his corner of it. Thankfully, Mr. Stark had that well in hand. Yes, Peter wanted to be an Avenger, he wanted to be in the big leagues, to meet them all (off the battlefield this time)…but he'd gotten a good dose of reality. Having a building collapsed on you, intentionally, by your classmate's dad had a sobering effect.

He was distracted from his inner thoughts as Ned nudged him, "So…wanna hang out tonight?"

Peter smiled and nodded, "Yeah." He was Spiderman often enough, but Ned kept him grounded. After the whole Vulture incident, and after passing Mr. Stark's Avengers test, Peter had looked to his best friend to help him stay on the straight and narrow. To balance the two sides of his persona and Ned did a good job of that. Happy had given him more freedom- not requiring a call after every patrol (then again Pete was pretty sure he had hated those 2am calls to begin with). After all, with Iron Man telling him what a good job he'd done; he'd earned a bit of freedom. Mr. Stark still had tons of protocols in place, all built into the suit, but Peter was trusted a bit more. In a way he'd proved himself. He was expected to call if anything crazy like the Vulture happened again, anything more than his typical neighborhood stuff and he'd also been warned that if he didn't call, and got in over his head, there would be hell to pay. Tony wouldn't make the mistake of taking away the suit again, but he had threatened far more worse things- like turning it pink. Or making the webs taste like cotton candy.

Pete was happy to report there had been no 'Happy call worthy' event in weeks. He was pretty sure Happy was, well, happy about that too.

"Sup losers." MJ commented, letting herself into the conversation, "You weren't planning on skipping today where you?" Ned looked worried. MJ could be rather intimidating.

"No, we'll hang out after practice." Pete answered easily, Ned nodding in agreement.

MJ finished off the motion with a nod, "Come on Pete." Was stated simply, she and Peter had next period together, so they could walk there, Ned was due to be on the other side of the building and the warning bell sounded. He excused himself and Pete smiled as he watched his friend rush off before walking in comfortable silence to class.

Class was normal, Peter half paid attention to the teacher- like any self-respecting teenager. He was a little less successful at ignoring Flash who made his comments and hit him with more than one crumpled piece of paper. Only a scathing look from MJ when one of the papers bounced off Pete and landed close enough to draw her attention, had Flash settling down.

Peter wasn't exactly thrilled she'd come to his rescue but at least he could go back to day dreaming for the rest of the lecture between working on the homework problems he was sure they'd be assigned. The less work he had to do after school hours the more time he had to patrol, or hang out with Ned, whatever the case may be.

It was math, calculus to be exact and Mr. Simmons always did the same thing with only slightly variances. He never assigned more than twenty problems, either all the even, or all the odd from the given section or chapter. Pete would do both and turn in which ever set ended up being assigned. It was how he handled most of his classes. Occasionally he and Ned would get side tracked and wind up having homework or a project but mostly he did as much as he could during the day.

The bell rang and signaled the start of the ever-anticipated lunch rush. Peter had mixed feelings about it. Lunch would be a chance to hang out with Ned- they didn't have as many classes together this semester, but it would also be a time to catch up on first period English work, how he loathed it. At the same time, it seemed Flash was a bit frustrated that MJ had literally stared him down in math and was hell bent on taking it out on Peter. He'd been shoved no less than four times by the other teen in the short walk from classroom to locker to lunch hall. Each time his spidey sense alerted him before contact was made and each time he had to ignore the helpful warning. Oh how he wanted to just duck or dodge, Flash would tumble with shock on his face. Peter could only imagine it in his head and instead stayed in the path of every shove.

"Come on Parker. Stop being so clumsy." Really? Was that the best Flash could do? Seriously? Peter inwardly counted to ten even though it was unnecessary…And for that matter who actually counted it? He was pretty sure people just thought about the phrase and tried to calm down. Another shove. "Out of the way Penis Parker." He did just that, hoping the storm that was Flash would simply blow on by.

A moment later he was joined by Ned, "You should just string him up, just once." That brought a smile back to Pete's features as he shook his head, a glance to Ned showed his friend was just joking, they knew how important it was for Peter to keep his alter ego a secret. "Come on." This time it was Ned who nudged him, "It's pizza day." And his best friend had never moved so quick.

Lunch was a loud and social affair. They might be teens in one of the most highly rated schools for science and technology, but they were still teens and there were still social circles and gossip to catch up on.

"So…I was thinking." Ned offered, "Maybe tonight we'd just chill out, see if my mom will order a pizza and maybe finish Portal 2?"

Peter blinked, "Ned…We're eating pizza now." He felt the need to point that out, with a gesture and everything.

"Yeah…I know, but like, different pizza later." The young hero decided that was good enough logic for him. As for the game Peter was dreading it. He'd beat the solo campaign but trying to beat the co-op was proving to be a nightmare. They were two smart guys, Ned was his guy in the chair even! How was this game so impossible?

The rest of the lunch hour was spent doing nothing of merit, nothing memorable. It was just like every other lunch. If only he'd known how random the universe would be, perhaps he would have treated this day differently, cherished it more? No that was silly, it was just school lunch.

At the bell they stood up carrying trays to the garbage to dump whatever wrappers and left-over bits remained before stacking them on the counter nearby. A quick stop to their lockers allowed them both to grab books for physics, a class both teens shared together and thankfully so. They had several projects throughout the semester and had been allowed to pair up each time so far. Physics class, taught by Miss Johnson, was hands down Pete's favorite classes, she was younger than most of the teachers and related to their generation better. She made learning as hands on as possible but today was a lecture day. She let them know up front. This usually happened every other week or so where there was just no way she could scrape out an activity to make the learning any less grueling. At least she was honest about it when class started.

About five minutes before the bell and his mind was numb. His thoughts had wandered more than once, and he knew he'd have to study at some point to soak in whatever it was Miss Johnson had tried to teach them. Roughly five minutes before the bell a simple knock came on the door before the principle let himself in. The sound of shifting chairs got his attention as everyone sat a little straighter, if only because their interest was piqued. The older man walked over, whispering something quick that only Miss Johnson and Peter Parker heard. He tensed before she motioned, "Mr. Parker, take your things." He'd been summoned by the principle, who had personally walked here to get him.

Ned was shooting him worried looks, looks that wondered if Peter knew what this was about. He gave a shrug as he stood, sliding his book off the desk and into his backpack. He honestly had no idea what this was about, and his thoughts instantly went to every what if he could think about. What if someone knew? What if someone found out? Had he been careless? Was he spotted without his mask? Had someone recognized his voice? Everything circled around Spiderman and had he not been so instantly panicked he might have thanked the stars Flash didn't share this class- he was sure the other would have some sarcastic taunt about the situation.

The moment they were out the door he hazarded a glance up, "Sir?" He wondered, falling in step as the man led the way.

"You're not in trouble son." Was offered, but the words felt heavy somehow. If they were meant to bring him comfort they didn't. His stomach felt heavy and light all at once. He tried to be rational. This couldn't be about Spiderman. He'd been careful, he was pretty sure if his identity had leaked Mr. Stark would have reached out, or Happy at the very least. That meant it was something school related, but what? He hadn't cheated. He hadn't been late- well no more than the average teen right? He hadn't skipped, hadn't responded to Flash's constant bullying. What could possibly warrant this?

The walk to the principal's office was daunting but short and later Peter would wish it had gone on longer, that life could be…that it could just be, the way it was, a little longer.

Instead he was guided in, frowning and freezing in the doorway. There was a woman he didn't know, seated in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, and a uniformed officer standing behind her. His backpack was slung over his shoulder and his hand tightened around the strap. He wanted to go no further, thoughts instantly going back to his alter ego with the cop's presence but a gentle nudge from the principal had him stepping inside. The door slowly closed as the man moved around the desk to take a seat, making a motion for Peter to take the empty chair but he couldn't move, rooted to his spot. "Peter." The unfamiliar woman stated, pushing the empty chair just an inch towards him, "Why don't you take a seat?"

The world went cold. If anyone ever asked, Peter wouldn't be able to explain, but he knew. Something about this…perhaps it was faint memories from when his parents had died. Perhaps it was from hearing Aunt May tell him what he already knew about Uncle Ben. It wasn't just the phrase, but something in the way it was said. "I'll stand." His voice sounded far more confident than he felt, in fact he was certain that he'd collapse if he tried to take a seat.

"Mr. Parker, please, sit." The principal suggested and Peter shook his head with a half step back.

"Come on kid." The officer stated, his Brooklyn accident thick as hands moved away from where they'd rested on his utility belt and he took a step towards the teen. Peter lurched backwards instinctively, perhaps a little too quickly but given the situation none of the adults were focused on that. No, the news they had to deliver distracted them from seeing anything abnormal in his movements.

"No. No. Where is May?" He questioned, gaze flickering between the three of him. If he was in some sort of trouble warranting the police, "Where is my Aunt?!" His voice climbed higher in his panic. Here he was, Spiderman- he'd actually stolen Captain America's shield and yet he was practically screeching questions.

The woman, whoever she was, had navigated tough situations before and didn't even flinch. "Your Aunt has been in an accident." And somehow, despite having been backing away from the trio, a moment later Peter's rear hit the seat. So much of it was drowned out. He had that buzzing in his ears, that ringing sound that happened sometimes. He'd like to blame it on his heightened senses being dialed up but he knew that had nothing to do about it. His mouth was dry, a bottle of water was offered out but even the act of drinking it seemed to be a challenge at the moment. Giving up after a sip he set it down on the corner of the desk, too scared he'd crush it in his grip. So many things were being said and yet, three little works summed it up, each one innocent on its own and yet together, something that tore him down in every way.

May was gone.

There were details, she'd been struck, hit her head, gone instantly. Someone commented that she hadn't suffered. The cop maybe? What did he know? She was dead. Dead meant suffering, he was pretty sure getting hit by a motorcycle would hurt. What did it matter? Was that meant to make him feel better somehow?

She was gone. She was gone and he didn't get to say good bye. Didn't get to text her and see if he could go over Neds tonight. He never would again. At some point his head was bowed, someone was rubbing his back. How'd he get in this position? His head was swimming, someone was telling him to take deep breaths. Those were the only blessed moments that were out of focus for him. Movies and books liked to romanticize times like this, make them all a blur for the purpose of glossing over the sad part- but that simply didn't happen. He sucked in air, returned oxygen to his system and every moment was in hyper focus.

She was from social services. He was the cop on duty who'd responded to the call. May was already gone. There was no plug that needed to be pulled, no identification to made. Someone would per state requirement but apparently that need not be him. He was questioned, confirmation that his parents were in fact dead, that his uncle was dead. Did he have any other living relatives? They'd realized none and he simply confirmed it.

His address was confirmed with a nod and the next steps were explained. She was going to take him home, he was going to pack some personal effects. She was going to take him somewhere. Somewhere until the funeral. There was no argument, he shuffled out after a few sympathetic words from the principal. The cop would walk them out but apparently, he'd go his separate way then getting back into his patrol car. Was he there out of respect, having been on the scene? Or just there to make sure Peter didn't cause a scene?

He was motioned to the front of a newer Ford Fusion, the color some sort of burnt red, not at all any sort of pleasing shade. He'd sit, buckle in when ordered, hugging his backpack to his chest. Funny, the city traffic seemed to part for them, it took jokingly little time to reach their apartment. He didn't mind, the would be soothing music she'd put on was grating his last nerves. She got out of the car first- she didn't have a name, she did but Peter didn't care to know it. She was leading the way but letting him guide them, his hand shaking as he produced the key needed to gain them entry.

"What?" He blinked at her.

"I asked if you had a suitcase." Her tone was polite, caring even, but there was something to it. This was her job. This is what she did for a living, that didn't make her evil, but it did make her unable to truly relate. This is what she dealt with daily so in a way, she'd grown numb to it. Peter assumed she'd have to, to keep doing this.

He nodded then, moving to the hall closet, it took a minute to free the piece of luggage from behind heavy winter coats but soon enough the suitcase was pulled free. It was the one Happy had bought him when Peter had admitted to not owning one. He and May never traveled.

"Pack your toiletries, clothing." She instructed but also guided. The bathroom was first, for the things he'd need, then they moved to his bedroom. She walked him through it. Socks, underwear, shirts, pants, pajamas. A few of each, little more would fit. Funny, she didn't tell him to pack his suit. His suit, eyes widened. She was here, with him, he hadn't been left alone or unattended and she certainly didn't appear to be going anywhere. It was a moment of panic. He wasn't thinking of being Spiderman, emotions were too raw, but the suit, the suit was a comfort, was a persona he could wear, confidence to be had. There was also fear. She was taking him away, what if he couldn't come back? What if someone else found it?

"I-I need a minute." He gave, voice sounding rough.

She nodded simply, "of course." But barely moved an inch, simply pausing in her listing of things for him to pack.

"Alone." He clarified with a glance to her. "I need a minute, alone." She seemed to consider for a moment before nodding and stepping out, his enhanced hearing waiting to hear her making it to the living room. In a flash he had the suit out from his ceiling and buried as best he could in his suitcase. After he took a moment to breath before carrying on, a few personal items were added, along with his laptop on top, then the suitcase was zipped shut as he headed out to meet her. Her expression was clouded. Clearly she'd meant to see what all went inside, from a logical standpoint Peter couldn't blame her. What weapons or drugs could distraught teens hide? What multi-million dollar suits with advanced AI and weapons tech?

She gave him an appraising look and he dutifully lowered his gaze. See? He wasn't a threat. Please, he wanted to go. There was no need to drag him away, he completely and entirely avoided May's room. He didn't want to be here. "Alright Peter." She stated, partly to herself, having decided to not go through his suitcase here and now. "We can go." The 'when you're ready' was left hanging in the air. He drew in a breath but didn't change his mind, nodding as he headed for the door.

Back in the car they went. She was telling him that he was going to stay in a temporary home, just for a few days or weeks until more permanent placement could be found. His phone buzzed in his pocket for the twenty eighth time- he'd been counting, what with being hyper aware and all. He finally pulled it out, only then did his vision blur as tears filled his eyes and he struggled to keep his breathing from reducing to choked sobs. Ned. All of Ned's worried messages. The woman glanced over but didn't comment, allowed him as much dignity as possible.

After several moments he was able to send the simple message that had cracked his foundation. "May is gone." He couldn't handle anything more and turned the phone face down after that. The buzzing continued, more than before but he couldn't. The rest of the car ride was spent glancing out the window to try and not let her see as he broke down, and to try and keep from crushing the cell phone he held.


	3. Chapter 3

Still trying to figure out this formatting thing. Sorry for the lack of separation between header notes and chapter. Hopefully this one is better!

The chapters will flow between Peter and Tony. Or rather, Peter and everyone else for the most part. While Peter's chapters are more 'real time' following each minute, Tony's and co. are more overarching and following a longer time frame before eventually catching up to Peter's present situation and the two cross.

Thank you all for the kind words!

* * *

Tony Stark, contrary to any sort of cosmic belief, was not overly infatuated with the boy who was Spiderman. His entire life wasn't suddenly changed or shifted to revolve around the child hero. Admitting that wasn't some sort of cruel acknowledgment, but rather the simple truth.

Tony Stark was Iron Man. He was presently the head of the Avengers, he was the owner (if no longer the CEO) of Stark Industries. He was officially Earth's Mightiest Hero- So said Time Magazine anyway along with a lovely little smear campaign about the Captain's fall from grace. Tony didn't necessarily agree with what everything it said about Rogers, but he did take some pleasure in the crudely snapped photos of the usually photogenic man.

A beard, Steven, really?

Point being, while it was all good and would give people the warm and fuzzies to think he'd personally mentor Peter Parker, it just didn't work like that. Perhaps if the kid had taken up his offer- er, failed the test- and became an Avenger they'd have more time together. But he hadn't. So they didn't. Tony liked the kid well enough, he meant what he'd said to him, Peter was supposed to be better than the rest of them.

Tony had been there for him, especially when the teen was taking on more than he could handle but the truth was, Tony had bigger fish to fry. The whole Vulture incident was only a week behind them at this point but it seemed like they'd come to an agreement on how things should be handled moving forward.

Not to mention, Peter also wanted to keep his identity a secret so the 15 year old being seen regularly with **the** Tony Stark would just lead to a ton of questions and someone out there would be smart enough to realize that the kid started hanging around roughly the same time Spiderman got a mutli million dollar upgrade.

See? His lack of presence in Pete's life wasn't strictly selfish, he was helping the kid maintain his cover!

This was why, after Germany, and after a bit of keeping him on the straight and narrow, Tony stayed out of the kid's way. Happy was his go to and they'd realized (Or rather Rhodey had pointed out but Tony would never give him credit) that all the restrictions they were putting out there were only causing a rebellion. Had caused a rebellion.

See? He was a terrible mentor.

Either way they backed off, let the kid do his thing, but made it clear that if he got in over his head he needed to call. In fact, for that Peter even had a direct line to Tony, he'd been a fool at first- while Tony trusted Happy with his life by shoving the kid off on his former bodyguard he'd given the wrong impression. Tony needed to know if Peter was in trouble, so for emergencies only, he had that number. Of course Stark wasn't going to rely solely on the responsibility of a fifteen year old and so if something happened while Spiderman was out...spider...manning... the suit would call him. Pete's AI, apparently named Karen, was set to alert Tony to any number of situations or injuries. Not to mention the news. Friday was always keeping a tiny bit of immense processing power available to watch for headlines. Anything about Spiderman that indicated he'd done something more than the friendly and the neighboring stuff.

Look at that, his idea (totally not Rhodey's) was working like a charm. Spiderman was staying in his lane and Tony had another couple of years to hopefully figure things out with the Accords and the fragmented Avengers before he had to worry about a grown up Spider and just what to do with him.

Speaking of the Accords, Tony stared at the little flip phone sitting on his desk next to a glass of chilled brandy. He'd sipped at the drink, honestly it was there more for the motion, for the need to hold it, swishing and rolling the liquid around with the whiskey rocks. He should have just used regular ice, at least then he could claim the drink was diluted and the reason why he'd barely touched it. Not that he had to explain himself to anyone.

He was alone up in his lavish office near the top of the former Avenger, former Stark now technically unnamed tower. He'd considered selling it- If the Avengers were located in central New York they'd always be a target! But they couldn't be off the grid always and grudgingly he had to admit Loki hadn't really targeted his building because it was his, because they were the Avengers. He'd just confused a correlation for a causation.

Besides, there was apparently not a great market for damaged skyscrapers. Who knew?

He reached out, fingers curling around the ancient piece of ninetys tech but it seemed like it was too heavy to lift, instead he spun the simple device- watching it spin like a top on the table. Rogers. Leave it to him to send the great Tony Stark a flip phone. A Flip Phone. He was personally offended.

What was he supposed to do with it anyway?

Call? Was this some sort of 'when you're ready to apologize reach out'? Well, tough cookies he wasn't that sort of person. Besides, Cap had made his choice, had sided with good Bucky the homicidal maniac over him and Tony Stark was no one's sloppy seconds. Sure, okay. Maybe Barnes was under mind control and maybe it hurt now to realize his current relationships were torn to shreds over something that he couldn't change in the past but what were they supposed to do? Hug it out?

Why had Cap given him the phone? Anger rose and in a blind moment he snatched the device just as it came to rest after its spin. Flipping it open and hitting send on the only number programmed in.

It rang twice before he heard a familiar "Tony?" The voice guarded but hopeful.

"Rogers." Was the curt reply. On the other end Steve nodded, okay, clearly they weren't on a first name basis right now. He waited, Tony had called him after all, but there was silence for several moments too long.

"Well Rogers." Tony finally gave. "Did you want to explain yourself?"

Cap's blue eyes widened slightly, even though Tony couldn't see, "Me?" There wasn't exactly accusation in his tone, he knew what a big step this was for the other. "Well, we're doing okay if that's what you're asking." Tony hummed on the other end, "But I'm sure you knew that. Is this a social call?"

"Maybe." Was the short answer.

Oh Tony, pride was such a painful thing to overcome, Steve wouldn't berate him for that. "I'm just trying to figure out if this was some sort of a joke on your part. You know, the phone. Or if you seriously couldn't find better tech." The sarcasm was clear and Steve smirked on the other end. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

"Sorry Tony." He pressed, refusing to call the other Stark, that would only cause them to lose ground. Steve wanted the other to know he was there, he wanted to be there for him. Yes they'd had their disagreements, on an epic scale, but Steve still valued their friendship. He was pretty sure that after the dust settled and the emotional shock from what had happened subsided, Tony did as well. "Didn't mean to offend your senses."

"Yeah well, I'll forgive you." And there was weight to it, so much more than just forgiveness over sending him age old technology when he was Tony freaking Stark of Stark Industries. No, the forgiveness was for more. Tony had his fair share of the blame, they both knew that, but he wasn't the sort to go seeking real forgiveness. He also wasn't the sort to have these real open and honest heart to hearts.

"I appreciate that." Steve offered back, "I'll try to do better next time. I didn't mean to upset you. You know? With the phone." He hadn't, things had gone to hell so quickly, so much had gone wrong when the odds were stacked against them.

Silence lingered on both ends while Tony lounged back stretched out in his desk chair, tilting it to recline to a dangerous angle. "How's Colonel Rhodes?" Steve asked, switching gears.

"Good..he's good...mending. Probably won't be 100% again but...he's walking." With assistance from Tony's devices.

"I'll let Sam know." It weighed heavy on the other. "What about that kid from Queens?"

Tony sighed heavily, leaning forward to grab his nearly forgotten drink. The mere mention of Spiderman was enough to spur him into downing the liquid gold that burned down his throat. "He's...good. Handful at first but I think I've got him back to the minor league. No worse than I'd found him and better equipped to handle it."

"The great Tony Stark making a kid keep his nose clean?" An attempted joke, testing the waters.

Tony snorted, "Well, they're still showing your videos in schools so maybe it was your influence."

"He's still in school?" Steve knew he was young…

Tony blinked on his end, "Oh...Would you look at that? I gotta run. Okay bye now." He flipped the phone closed, setting it next to the empty glass on the desk, staring at it in the dim lighting Friday had set for him. No need to get the talk from Steve like he'd already had from Rhodey about the kid. Perhaps there was, what? Hope? Ugh he needed another drink.

* * *

"General Ross is still waiting boss." Friday's voice called out. Speak of the devil.

"You have to talk with him. You know that right?" Rhodey commented from where he sat on a nearby work chair in Tony's lab. It had been a little over a week since his call with Rogers, it had been playing on his mind and while Tony had not shared this information it was easy for James Honey Bear Rhodes, to see that something was going on in that brilliant mind.

"I don't **have** to."

"The Accords state-"

Tony cut him off by raising a socket wrench in the air as one might a finger, "The Accords state that I cannot take action without the approval of the UN, and since I've not received approval to take his call…." A shit eating grin was on his face as Rhodey sighed.

James understood, while the Accords weren't perfect, they'd given Tony peace of mind in a time he desperately needed it. He'd seen it with soldiers. Soldiers who held tight to the fall back "I was following orders". Iron man, the Avengers, they didn't have that. Sure there was S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury tried to order and guide them, but in the end the Avengers knew their actions were their own. Their decisions were their own. For Tony- that meant realizing the death toll on his hands. It had been a shock to learn what his Stark Industries weapons were doing. What had he done? Shut it down and never looked back. When Iron man had inadvertently caused the deaths of innocent lives? Well...That was personal. Tony still had nightmares.

The Accords had been a rash action when Tony felt like he needed the responsibility off his shoulders, when he needed someone else to tell him what to do, the finger of blame could be pointed in another direction. It was a moment of weakness and now, the dark haired male was doing his best to correct it. Just like every mistake he'd made. He couldn't wipe it out, couldn't bring back the dead. He could only do his best to fix the problem. If he couldn't save it. Avenge it.

"Mr. Stark, General Ross is insisting he speak with you." Friday updated and he sighed, ordering the AI to patch him through, the General's voice booming instantly and in the middle of a tirade.

"ther God damned thing-"

His rant cut off as Tony smirked to Rhodey, "General! So sorry about the wait. I guess I don't have iron bowels, you know, taco Tuesday is really hitting me worse and worse as I get older. You know about that right?" Completely pointless, Rhodey rolled his eyes as the other baited the older man.

"Stark." Was barked out. "This isn't a social call."

"Oh good so you'll get straight to the point then?" Tony returned to working on his suit even though they were both sure the General's blood pressure shot through the roof.

"I'd warn you to speak with the appropriate level of respect but I've accepted that you're incapable of change." Tony looked to his friend as if to silently question if he ought to retort but Rhodey waved him off, better to just get the man off the phone sooner rather than later. "I'm calling for an update. Need I remind you that your team is supposed to be bringing in your former teammates turned war criminals, or has that escaped you?"

Tony considered. Ross couldn't see his face but Rhodey could and this had apparently become a game of 'see if you can make War Machine crack up on the phone'. "No no...I'm aware of the mission. I just think you're confused, see, just because you and the UN decide the Avengers should do something, doesn't mean we can instantly do it." Rhodey was shaking his head and probably praying to higher powers or something. Bah, hadn't worked so far. Let them strike him down where he stood.

Shit. Maybe Thor could, he'd have to be careful.

"It's the opinion of some that you aren't exactly trying to hard." Was snapped back.

Tony hummed in fake contemplation, "Umm...So let me get this straight. I deliver to you all of these supposed war criminals-"

"Except Rogers."

"It's rude to cut people off. Anyway, Everyone, BUT Rogers. So that's like what? 80? 85%? And what percentage of them escaped the Raft that was under YOUR control?"

There was silence, maybe Ross was counting to ten, "Just find them Stark." The line went dead and Tony smirked victorious.

"You're playing a dangerous game Tones…" Rhodey's voice showed he disapproved. Tony merely waved him off and returned to his work, just tinkering, keeping his mind busy.

The lack of response had him press forward. "You know they're in Wakanda right?" He deadpanned.

"Ah ah! That my dear platypus, is speculation. It's very wrong. I'm ashamed of you. I know nothing of the sort." Was tossed back and Rhodey, again, rolled his eyes.

"Come on Tony." Rhodey's tone shifted, more serious. "What's the plan? Seriously. You backed the Accords and now you're...you're what? Trying to find ways around them? Looking for every loophole? Undermining Ross? You know I'm with you, it'd be easier if I knew what you were thinking sometimes."

That caused Tony to take pause, he didn't look at the other, not right away, focusing on the empty gaze of the suit he was working on. Blank, emotionless, so impossible to read. In a nervous gesture he tapped the wrench on the palm of his hand a few times before turning towards his long time friend. "I don't know." And there was weight in those words. A half shrug as the great Tony Stark looked down and away. "Is that a good answer?" He murmured. "I don't know." A little more certain.

He pushed away from his work station, tossing the wrench on the nearest flat surface, "Obviously I didn't want the team locked up but what choice did I have?"

"And now?" Rhodey questioned.

"And now...now...I don't know. Was it the right play? Maybe. Were we out of control? Perhaps. Did we do good? Most times. And now? Now we do what? Make public appearances? Continue to hunt the team down?"

Rhodey sighed a little, shifting, "What did you expect Tony? Government oversight is what it is and we've got 117 nations in the mix."

"Says the career soldier." Rhodey gave him a scathing look that somehow said that was uncalled for, but he'd allow it- but also, he could kill Tony in his sleep and Ross would give him a medal. It was a look only brothers in bond could ever truly achieve. Them and teenage girls, they were vicious.

Tony sighed at the look, eyes flickering to show he at least felt a little remorse at the low blow. "What do you want me to say?" He wondered, no sarcasm in his tone, just the honesty of one friend showing a bit of vulnerability to another. Something the great Tony Stark rarely did.

"I don't want you to say anything. I want you to figure out what you want to do and let's do it." Rhodey was there to back him. Like he always had been, give or take a few superhero level brotherly disputes. They'd had their differences but, in the end, Rhodey trusted Tony more than anyone else. At least, he knew what he could expect from the billionaire.

"You're just saying that because I buy you nice things. And build you better suits."

Another eye roll, they were going for a record now, "Come on Tony. Take a break, let's get something to eat." He could see the other was torn, the guilt and death toll weighed heavy on him, the responsibility that came with their position in life had beaten the hero down and he'd freely given up control. Now he was realizing that he'd picked the greater of two evils and had to come to grips with admitting he was wrong. Not only that (and of course for Tony admitting he was wrong was by far the hardest part) but he had to find a way to amend or repeal the Accords. Clear the others of their war crimes. Get over the fact that he still loathed Bucky. Try to make some sort of attempt to rebuild the relationship with the fractured team, still look devilishly handsome and of course, not lose his sense of humor in the process.

Yeah. Admitting he was wrong was the hard part.


	4. Chapter 4

Wow! So excited about the feedback :) It's keeping me motivated.

This should be the last chapter that's a bit all over the place structure-wise. The jumble-ness is an ode to how quickly thoughts and feelings change in my experience with the grieving process.

Don't forget to drop a review if you enjoy!

* * *

They arrived.

Peter still didn't know the name of the woman driving him around he didn't really care to. He did wonder why he'd even gone with her. The car ride had given him time to consider. He could have run. Heck, he could open the car door right now and be gone before she could put it in park. Where would he go? Ned's? It seemed the obvious choice, but he knew in the long run his friend's parents could stop this…this whatever it was. Was he a ward of the state? An orphan from all family now? What happened to the apartment? What happened to May's things? What about May?

Where else was there to go? Was this a problem Tony could help with? What help was there? May was gone.

"We're here." She commented, and Peter blinked, realizing she'd parked the car. They were outside the city, not by far. One of the many dense suburbs, parked in front of an unassuming house. "Come on." She prompted, and Peter moved robotically, out of the car, backpack over one shoulder as he took his suitcase from the backseat and followed her inside.

A middle-aged woman greeted them at the door, she had a friendly smile, but it was reserved, trying to be pleasant but also aware of the trauma Peter had faced.

He was guided in, the new woman suggesting he leave his things by the door for now. Peter complied, still in some level of shock as he was moved to sit on a small sofa while the two women took up similar seats in the would be cozy living room.

"Peter. This is Emma Houts. She works with our agency for emergency placement. You'll be staying with her until we can determine a more permanent living arrangement." Neither woman had been unkind to him, both had and would prove to be well seasoned in events such as these.

He nodded. What else could he say? He could argue, throw a fit, what would it change? May was gone.

He blinked. "What's gunna happen to May?"

The two women shared a glance. Everyone handled loss differently so while Peter seemed to have himself well put together they knew it was only a matter of time before the loss truly sank in. The first women- he still didn't remember her name, shifted. "I will be looking to arrangements, it's our understanding that your Aunt did not have a will on file. If there are no funds or life insurance policies, the state will handle expenses until the estate can be handled."

Peter knew there wasn't money. He and May weren't poor but certainly didn't have a ton in the bank. He might not know the actual number, but he knew May had still been paying off Uncle Ben's funeral and there was no life insurance policy, at least he was pretty sure. Uncle Ben didn't have one and if May had decided to get one suddenly afterwards he was pretty sure she would have told him. He was the only one keeping a major secret in the house. Not her.

"Do I have to stay here?" Again, the first woman- no you know what? Sue. Her name was Sue. He was going to call her that at least. In his head.

"We understand you've got friends, but the state is now responsible for your care and we need to ensure you're in an approved home. That's why you'll stay with Emma until something can be sorted out. You've got your phone, right? We encourage you to call your friends, we're not looking to cut you off from your life Peter, this is a big change, yes things will be different but we're here to do our very best to help you. I don't want you to worry about that right now. You are safe, we are going to help you take care of everything." Her words were kind but well-practiced.

Peter didn't think she was lying but she certainly wasn't someone he instantly trusted. What Sue thought, and what he thought were in his best interest could be two very, very different things.

Still, he could only numbly nod as she moved to stand. Sue offered a simple, "I am sorry for your loss Peter." And with a nod to Emma she took her leave.

"Peter." Emma gave after a few moments, "Would you like something to eat? To drink?" He shook his head mutely and she didn't press the issue. "Alright. Why don't I show you to your room, you must be exhausted." He wasn't, was he? Maybe. It certainly wasn't late, school would just be letting out. His phone had stopped buzzing at some point and he was certain the battery had died but he didn't care. The one person in all the world he wanted to speak with, would never be on the other end of the line again.

Stiffly he'd listen to calm directions. She gave him the option of carrying his things and he did. Up the stairs they went to a room in neutral tones. It looked like a hotel- not that he'd stayed in many himself (outside of Germany), but he'd seen enough of them on tv. Just neutral a perfectly made bed and no personal touches. It wasn't a bad room, but it wasn't his.

Emma motioned for him to set his things down and he dropped both on the bed. "Peter, my duty is to keep you safe while things are sorted out and that means ensuring that I know what has been brought into my house. I'm going to help you put your things away okay?"

He was hardly thinking now but he did manage a weak protest, "I can do it."

"I insist." Of course her reasons were simple, Peter could have brought any sort of contraband into her house, she'd been doing this long enough to know to check for weapons, drugs or worse. Peter had protested but when she pressed he relented without another word as she opened his backpack first. Books and notepads were set out on the little writing desk and for good reason she found nothing of interest or concern.

Moving to his suitcase she unzipped it, showing him where he could put his limited personal belongings. The laptop and phone charger went to the desk, toiletries to a little basket on top of a small dresser before she started on his clothing.

His clothing.

The suit.

His eyes went wide with realization about the moment she started pulling out the blue and red fabric. He lunged forward, snatching it away and curling it against his chest, hidden as much as he could under his arms. "Peter?!" She questioned, clearly caught off guard. This wasn't her first rodeo, but she hadn't expected such a move for fabric.

He took a half step back, "Sorry…Sorry it's…they're…. just pajamas." What had Mr. Stark called them? "Underoos…"

Well, Emma was certain it was just fabric, nothing in the seemingly flimsy material and she knew when to push and when to cave. "Alright dear. I understand." He was at that awkward phase between child and adult and clearly from his books he wasn't the most…manly. Childish pajamas were likely a carryover from his tragic background what with losing his parents early and such. She'd seen his file.

"Why don't you put that away in the dresser?" He nodded, moving to do so, what else could he do? It had been a risk to leave the suit behind, but it was a risk bringing it too. Stuffing it as far back as possible he allowed her to hand him the rest of his clothing, she pulled each piece out and refolded it before passing it over to the teen.

When all was done she moved the suitcase over to an unoccupied corner of the room. "Peter? Would you like to talk about anything?" She questioned as she waited at the doorway.

Peter shook his head. There wasn't- what he wanted, what he needed- it was impossible to get back. "Alright dear. If you need anything I'll be right down the hall." She offered before mostly closing his door, leaving it open just a crack.

Peter instantly sank to the bed, his head was in his hands and his back bowed forward, hunched over.

May was gone. She was gone.

His breathing came quickly, short little hiccups of air- the precursor to sobs, wretched sounds from his soul tearing itself apart. Tears would fall into his hands, wiped away onto his jeans, the hem of his shirt, the collar or sleeve. There were tissues on the desk, unfortunately he couldn't for the life of him muster up the strength to stand and reach them.

Emma didn't return, she'd seen far too many in her life. Some needed a caring heart close while they grieved, others- those stronger or who thought they were, grieved alone, exactly how they felt with the world right now. Alone in it. If Peter needed, she'd be there, but she wouldn't force her sympathy on him.

The sounds were heart wrenching, hollow, a tidal wave of emotion that finally let itself go. He shook, fingers curled against fabric. He felt tense and boneless all at once. His stomach felt empty and hard. Oh God…May.

Peter didn't know how long he cried, he simply woke the next morning, throat sore, chest aching and head pounding. His nose was stuffy too, a reminder of what happened.

Was he done crying? He wasn't certain, but he didn't feel like crying right now. Hands were still shaking as he rolled-half stumbling, from bed. Ned. He needed to talk to Ned, to hear his voice. He moved across the room. Shivering even though it wasn't cold in his room. He fumbled with his phone but did manage to get it on the charger, letting it boot up to a stream of texts and missed calls. From Ned, Ned's parents, from MJ and others at school. He felt his breathing hitching all over again and set the phone down. He couldn't not yet, he wasn't ready.

"Peter?" Came a call from down the stairs, "Are you up?" He wanted to say no, or rather, to not answer, but his phone began ringing again the moment it was fully booted and there was no way to hide that. He silenced his ringer and left the device to charge before heading out of his room. Tense and sore as he moved to head down the stairs, following sounds to the kitchen.

"Good morning Peter. I'm making breakfast. Do you have anything against bacon or eggs?" She wondered unsure of his preferences. She could just as soon make a veggie or even vegan meal.

"That's fine." He still didn't feel like eating but there was no denying the emptiness within.

She nodded and went back to her task, speaking over his shoulder, "There should be two Advil and some water there on the island." Peter saw them, he wasn't sure if they'd do anything given his mutation, but if crying could make him feel this bad, maybe regular medication could make him feel better. He took them with ease and a sip of water to follow-murmuring his thanks to Emma.

"Have you spoken with anyone?" She wondered casually as she set a few pieces of bread in the toaster.

Peter shook his head and she glanced over catching the tail end of the gesture.

"Is there anyone you would like me to call for you? A friend maybe?"

He sucked in a breath, crossing his arms on the island countertop, it had high barstool seats and he was able to rest his chin against his arms. "Ned…I have…I need to…Can he…can he come over?"

"Ned is a friend…from school?" She wondered but was also establishing. Peter seemed like a good kid but that wasn't always the case. She had to be caring but cautious. When Peter nodded she nodded back, "I would need to speak with his parents first. If you're close, I'm sure they'd like to come visit as well. It would be supervised." Ned's family couldn't take Peter, but they could visit.

Pete nodded and Emma suggested he call his friend after breakfast, setting a full plate down in front of the teen as he sat up straighter. "Eat what you can dear." And despite feeling as though he should be swearing off food, his hunger would get the better of him, his metabolism needing constant and filling meals to avoid giving him any trouble with his powers.

After, Emma said not to worry, she'd do the dishes, Pete didn't even offer to help, he didn't have it in him right now. Instead he turned and headed back up the stairs. Staring at the phone for several long minutes before drawing in a deep breath and picking it up. He wanted to have the control necessary to make the call, but he didn't. The mere thought of speaking about the situation had him giving little stuttered breaths that threatened more tears.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand he instead opened the text box. He couldn't handle reading everything Ned had sent and so he focused only on sending his message.

 **P: Can you come? With your parents?**

 **N: Yes. Where are you?**

 **Peter blinked, realizing he didn't really know. Moving to the window he was able to see the mailbox numbers and the street name at the crosswalk a few doors down.**

 **P: 23006 Wick…I don't know more. Can you find it?**

He didn't want to have to speak with Emma again, not right now, not when he was trembling again. Ned, his ever-loving guy in the chair used a combination of google search and the phone tracking app he and Pete shared in case either of them lost their phones. Once he had the information he rushed downstairs to let his mother know, having stayed home from school given the tragedy.

 **N: On our way. Half an hour.**

 **P: Thanks**

 **N: Anything you need me to bring?**

Was there? Yes probably, so much but above all.

 **P: No, just hurry. Please.**

He didn't want to be alone, to be the only one in the house with these feelings of pain and loss.

Emma called him back downstairs after a few more minutes and Peter answered when she asked if his friend was on the way. "His mom…maybe his dad is coming too…I'm not sure."

She nodded, "That's alright. Do you have a number where I can talk to her on the way? Just to make things easier when they arrive?" Peter did, he had Mrs. Leeds number and wrote it down for her, after Emma suggested he take a shower, letting him know there was a fresh towel hanging and toiletries if he'd forgotten anything he needed in the bathroom as well.

Peter nodded, climbing the stairs and doing as instructed while Emma spoke with Mrs. Leeds.

Ned and his parents arrived soon after and, in a way, there was some sort of familiarity and that brought him peace. It shouldn't be, but it was; this was familiar because they'd been there after the news of Uncle Ben's murder. Still. Mrs. Leeds had kind words. Mr. Leeds a strong nod for Peter and Ned. Ned was there.

Apparently, there was already a gofundme started. Mr. Leeds didn't sound confident in using the term, but Ned bobbed his head to make everyone aware that he was correct. Peter's school and May's work were all chipping in, a fair amount already being raised with more pledges on the way. The coming days would see May buried, a modest but appropriate ceremony all paid for out of said account and with others handling the arrangements and only a question or two for Peter on what May would have wanted. That would be just fine with Peter. He wasn't ready to make all those arrangements. Was anyone? It would be hard to imagine, to really think about how someone could hold it together to plan a funeral, a burial, the wake after wards. Why did that responsibility fall on the people who were grieving the most? It was stupid and yet, Peter would find that it was a good distraction, kept him from spiraling in his own thoughts.

Of course, all of that was to come and was simply something Mrs. Leeds was letting him know, everything would be taken care of.

"Can-" Peter's voice cut into the conversation for the first time. Everyone in the living room falling silent and giving him their total attention. He wasn't used to that, "Can Ned and I go upstairs?" He wondered. He knew they were trying to make him feel better, letting him know the plan and how he didn't have to worry, but he simply didn't want to deal with it at the moment.

Mrs. Leeds and Emma shared a look before the latter nodded, "Of course dear." Peter was up the stairs with Ned fumbling to keep up a moment later.

"Dude-"

"You have to take the suit." Of all the things Ned expected Pete to say the moment the bedroom door was shut, that wasn't one of them.

"What?"

"You…you have to take the suit!" He whisper-shouted. "She…she went through my luggage, she almost saw it. I can't…I can't risk…" It was a focus. May, May's death continued to play in the back of his mind, his heart ached but humans coped in different ways and focusing on keeping his biggest secret- well, a secret, was taking the forefront.

"Pete…you're not…I don't think you're thinking clearly." Ned felt for his friend but could see his panic.

"No, Ned. I am. They…they said this is temporary. Where am I going to go Ned? What if they ship me off somewhere else and they find the suit? What happens then?"

"Dude…Listen okay?" Ned's hands moved in a downward gesture as if he could calm the other teen simply with the motion. "I don't know? This…this sucks. But…have you called Mr. Stark? He's gotta…like…he'll do something right?" He sounded worried and hopeful, had Peter already tried that last night?

The look on the superhero's features gave Ned the answer. No. No he hadn't tried that. Why hadn't he called Mr. Stark? Ned was right, wasn't he? Iron Man would not want his technology just out there at risk…Iron Man was well…was his mentor, right? Sure, they hadn't seen each other in what… months? Mr. Stark was just really busy and Peter had been doing a good job? The older man was dealing with the Accords and all that. That's all.

He nodded, "Ye-yeah good idea." It was.

Ned offered a small smile, "Hey, it's why I'm your guy in the chair." Peter returned the tentative smile. Funny how life worked like that. Mourning wasn't a constant, there were moments when it hit him, when he hurt, but others, like now, where it subsided, where he could almost pretend, forget that he would never see her again.

The rest of the visit Ned distracted him, catching him up, MJ had apparently punched Flash after Peter had been taken out of class abruptly. The teen had made a comment and upon learning of the truth MJ had, in Ned's words, literally made him eat a knuckle sandwich. Talking with Ned made him feel better than he had since he'd left school, but it couldn't last. Eventually they were called back downstairs. A hug given by Mrs. Leeds, a hand on his shoulder from Ned's dad with a look and a nod for his best friend that was returned.

Mrs. Leeds promised everything would be handled, and it would, but that night Peter had something to do. Fingers curled around his cell phone, pacing in his temporary bedroom long after Emma had made them both dinner that night.

Was this an emergency? He could put on his mask and simply ask Karen, tell her it was an emergency and to contact Mr. Stark. But...but it wasn't, was it? It was like coming home to find out you'd been robbed. You needed the police but it wasn't something you called 911 for, or had to. They didn't have to come in with sirens wailing. Right? He wasn't in immediate danger; his life wasn't at risk. Mr. Stark had been pretty clear about the reasons why and why not to use that emergency line. This…this didn't qualify, there were worse situations, right?

Steeling himself, he instead scrolled down his contacts, Happy. He would call Happy. For a moment he considered a text, as he had with Ned but before he could change his mind he'd already hit send. Some part of him was praying for an answer, praying that Ned was right and Happy would help him, that Happy would tell Tony and Tony would tell him what to do. What to do with the suit, with his life. With everything.

It rang out. That…that wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the first time he'd left a message for Happy right? Especially after they'd come to an agreement about his limits, the other always got back to him and it was a bit late to be calling.

"Hey…Hey Happy." He sucked in a breath, completely unprepared, "Could you, can you get this message to Mr. Stark? I uh…I have a question about the suit." He paused for a moment, a natural thing, as if he were somehow waiting for the call to be transferred but of course it wasn't, this was merely a voicemail.

Realizing he'd spaced for a moment he fumbled to continue, "I uh…I really need some help. See…May-" His voice cracked, he'd managed the call well until that point, but just saying her name out loud broke him, "May's gone…" There were stuttered breaths and it took him several tries to say that, struggling to keep his voice down so Emma didn't over hear. "And I'm somewhere...I…I don't know. They say I can't…I need to…Mr-Mr. Stark I don't know what to do. Please…please call me back I- I have the suit and I…I don't know what's gunna-gunna happen, please…May's gone. I don't wanna be alone. I do-"

The emotionless beep indicated he'd reached the end of the recording time, the call disconnecting as he hit the button, dropping it to the floor as he sank down to the ground beside his bed. Another night spent crying himself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow! Might not be much to some but 10 reviews, I'm seriously blown away! Thank you so much for the kind words and support, it really means a lot.**

 **My goal was to just get a few reviews a chapter, and for a story that has some real emotional experience poured into- well, ya'll are really making my day. Your comments, questions, and concerns are all appreciated!**

 **As a reminder, Peter's story is the more direct, 'current' timeline portion while Tony and company's should be considered to start before May's death and eventually catching up to Peter. You'll clearly know when Tony's segments are catching up based on the cross over between story lines so until that happens, consider this all to be in the past or building up to May's death.**

 **This chapter is a bit of a test for me, playing additional characters for the first time and trying to get their personalities correct, hopefully I do well enough but I'm interested in any feedback you have, as I'm using this to 'spring board' some characters in future chapters and knowing what I could improve will only make for a stronger story.**

 **Slightly smaller story covering the key parts of the team and their current situations sans Thanos.**

* * *

Steve Rogers closed the flip phone after Tony ended the call staring at the little device for a moment.

Tony. He sighed.

"Man…what the hell are you doing up?" he glanced over his shoulder to see Sam Wilson approaching. The other man pointed a finger at him before he could reply, "And don't you dare 'language' me." He warned, smirking a second later at the wise crack.

It drew a smile from Steve, even if it was a tired one, tired from all that had happened…and because it was four in the morning Wakanda time. Stark either didn't know where they were or realized what time it was when he called. No, scratch that. Tony probably knew exactly where they were, and exactly what time he was calling. Somehow that fact warmed his heart- twisted logic that it was.

"Stark called." He answered, Wilson's demeanor changed slightly, "Rhodey's doing okay." He offered first, knowing it was the unasked question Sam would have.

"And Stark?" Was asked with a gruff tone, as if trying to play it off that he didn't so much care. Steve sighed again. "That bad huh?" Sam deadpanned.

"What is that bad at this hour?" Came the accented voice of King T'Challa, those who had sought refuge in Wakanda had been honored with quarters (in Sam's opinion ridiculously) close to the King.

"Nothing. Spoke with Stark, I think he's starting to see the Accords do more harm than good. Sorry for waking you." Which he assumed he'd done with his call in the common area between rooms.

T'Challa waved him off at the apology before nodding, "My father supported the Accords, but that was a different time." If not long ago, "I have consulted with my ancestors and changed. Realized that while we are not perfect, if we have these powers and skills and try to do good, even if we fail, we are far better to have tried- without oversight." When any one of them could simply turn evil and the UN could do nothing to stop it. T'Challa had in a way, shifted his mindset, it was why he offered a place for Steve and his team after learning the truth. "If Tony Stark is as smart as he claims, he will see this too."

"He is." Steve admitted as Sam snorted. "And I hope you're right."

T'Challa tilted his head slightly, "Now that that's settled, since we are awake, how about a run to the border and back?" He questioned with a bit of a smile.

Sam held up his hands in a surrender motion, "You two nut jobs enjoy yourself with that. Imma go back to bed like any sane person at this hour." And with sarcasm given he turned to do just that, leaving the enhanced pair to their mind clearing run.

* * *

"Brother do you honestly believe you'll be able to hail Midgar this time?" Loki wondered, ever frustrated and with good reason.

"We have grown closer than my last attempt and Tony Stark is a brilliant man. He will be listening for my call." Thor stated, as confident as ever with his complete blind faith.

Loki pinched the bridge of his slender nose, "Yes but you've said that, and you've tried that. Perhaps you should allow for more than an hour between attempts."

Thor's features pulled slightly with a head tilt, "Why? The sooner we contact Earth the sooner we can plan the help our people will need when we arrive. Why wouldn't I continue trying?"

"For my sanity to start with." Was quipped out, "Your incessant 'are we there yet' attempts to establish communication are going to be the reason you get murdered in your sleep. " Thor rolled his one remaining eye at that.

Theirs was a strange relationship and having had the chance to now watch up close Bruce was beginning to see. They were Gods, well and truly Gods. Thor had told the story of Loki turning into a snake to stab him, that was one of many times the pale God had tried to kill his brother. Thor had spoken almost fondly of that event and even now treated the death threat as if mere joking around. Because, Bruce realized, to them it was. He'd learned so much of their age, of their wars, their quests. The death tolls those missions brought with them and for how long they'd been at one another's side. Thor saw Loki as little more than a bratty little brother. His attack on New York while something Thor had punished Loki for, seemed to have been considered a childish rebellion despite the dark-haired God appearing an adult in every way.

Bruce wasn't exactly at the point of complete forgiveness, but he had to admit, Loki had in many ways redeemed himself, for now.

"Besides that, you're making everyone nervous each time we get no response and it drains on the limited energy resources of this ship." See like that. Loki claimed his personal reasons- being annoyed, but also cited intelligent ones as well.

"Loki is right." Heimdall commented, speaking up for the first time and reminding the others he was there. "But I see that our message will ring true to Earth this time."

Loki was scoffing and muttering that Heimdall should have stopped Thor all the other times if he and his all-seeingness knew that they weren't going to work. Thor merely smirked and attempted again, they weren't sure what frequencies, so he sent out the blast across every means he could manage, hoping someone picked up.

* * *

The Cauldron of the Cosmos, for the most part, sat as an unused art piece at the bottom of the New York Sanctum stairs. Well it did until voices from it drew Strange from one of the libraries. He from one on the upper lever and Wong from the kitchen left Strange at the top of the stairs looking down with confusion and Wong merely shrugging.

The Doctor would be the one to approach, taking the steps down two at a time just as "Hello. Hello Earth. This is Thor, do not be alarmed."

An eyebrow raised at the voice before he moved his hands allowing an image to draw up out of the Cauldron. "Thor? Why are you contacting me through the Cauldron?" Thor at least at the decency to look confused.

"That wasn't my intent…or was it? Hardly matters. Stark it is good to see you my friend."

Stephen blinked, "I'm not Stark." Did Thor not remember? The blond-haired God seemed to blink his one eye, leaning into whatever viewer they had on his end.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, not sounding confident in the other's comment. "Facial hair is right…"

Strange closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm not Stark. I'm Strange."

"Yes yes, the hair is a bit strange. And the cape? Are you trying to copy me Stark? Loki…Loki come look. It's Tony, I told you we'd make contact!" Without his consent, Loki was dragged into frame, stiff and glaring before blinking.

"That's not Stark." Well, Stephen could see who got the brains in this family.

"No no…I know he looks a bit strange, but it's been some time. Midgardians age differently." Clearly that was why Tony looked a bit different, their ship's screens weren't the best and the image was a bit blurry, it was an honest mistake really.

"No, my dear brother, graced with brawn but not brains. That man is not Tony Stark. He's the…the one who helped us find the Allfather." Loki refused to acknowledge the other wielder of the mystic arts.

It was as if a lightbulb went off and Thor's one blue eye refocused, "Yes! You are the great wizard, filled my glass and kept Loki falling. My apologies!"

Strange simply watched. How was this man one of Earths' mightiest again? "What exactly can I do to assist? I believed we had an agreement when you last left the planet." He reminded the other.

Thor looked a little regretful at that, "Ah yes, that. Yes. Well, you see…I had every intention of holding to my word but then it turns out I have a sister, and she's evil and tried to take over Asgard and then she was going to destroy the nine realms and I had to destroy Asgard to stop her. Well, technically Loki destroyed Asgard. But that stopped her from destroying Midgar and many other planets so in all actuality I believe you owe me a favor now." And there was that grin that Stephen was certain the blond used to get away with murder at times.

"And, exactly, what can I do to repay your…." He couldn't even think of how to respond and just waved his hand to indicate for Thor to continue.

"Before my father died, he mentioned Norway being a place that could be home. I will need you to contact Tony Stark and have him secure lands upon which my people can reside and take refuge."

"How many people are we talking exactly?" When he heard the total was a little over eight hundred his gaze went to the stars for a moment, seeking peace and answers from the cosmos.

Regaining his composure, he answered, "Let me see what I can come up with and if I can contact Stark. I'll be in touch." And with that he waved to end the call- hoping they'd get the picture and wait for him to call back.

"Wong!" He called out as he moved away from the Cauldron, "How would you store 800 Asgardians in Norway?"

Wong tilted his head, "Is this a hypothetical?"

* * *

The next few weeks for Tony were interesting to say the least. The billionaire was a genius. He could do just about anything he set his mind to and diving into the Accords, and all the people associated with them, well, it wasn't painting the picture he wanted. Ross- Tony never really liked the man but he'd been a means to an end when panic attacks and nightmares had gotten the better of his conscience. Turns out, his nightmares were far better a companion to be in bed with that the former General turned Secretary of State. Not to mention that but his investigations showed that three of the UN panel members had ties to HYDRA.

HYDRA.

Seriously? Still, this wasn't a matter Iron Man could simply show up and handle. Tony Stark was a public figure and he knew how much the public mattered. He didn't need governmental support, he needed the support from the masses. Any government official worth their salt feared only one thing and Tony would play on that until the world governments came begging at his feet.

How? One might wonder. How would one man cripple the Accords by rallying the masses? Simple, he'd do nothing, well, next to nothing. Nothing on the metaphorical sense.

"Friday what have you got?"

"Two incidents boss." The AI replied.

"On screen." He ordered, looking over the two. A construction site outside Hong Kong had collapsed the resulting domino effect had left the death toll continuing to climb, rescue efforts still underway. The second was a tropical region hit by another pounding hurricane and similarly experiencing mass turmoil. He considered before motioning to one, "Let's go with the act of God. No one to shift the blame to on that one. You know what to do."

"Of course." What Friday would do was send out an algorithm that would create a chain reaction- not for the first time. Social media would be ignited with a smoldering flame. Where were the Avengers. Why weren't they helping. The Accords meant they couldn't. Why didn't the UN let them help?

It would start with simply bots posting, disguised across social media- after all online no one knew if you were a dog or a super advanced AI. Soon activists, the media and everyone's aunt who barely knew how to update her profile picture would be posting and commenting. Friday would ensure the biggest conversations drove in a supportive manner. Iron Man couldn't help or he'd be a criminal, just like Captain America. It was the UN's fault for not sanctioning Avengers aid in this situation, or the others that had come before.

In a way, Tony did feel bad for using the natural disaster in such a political move, but it was a means to an end, one that would hopefully leave him and the other's free in the future to step in, to help when they could, where they could, without some behind closed doors panel deciding who deserved their help.

"Hey Fri. Updates on the kid?" He wondered.

"No media sources indicate that Mr. Parker has in any way gone outside the parameters you have set." He nodded, good. That was good. Of course, hindsight would have him realize he hadn't anticipated the null scenario, hadn't programmed Karen or Friday for it. Both AI's merely looked for any activity that exceeded the guidelines he'd set- neither of them looked for the complete absence of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow! Thank you all for keeping me motivated :) I will say the last chapter was a bit of my humor needing to just get itself out of the way in a very real fashion. This chapter is of course going to be the flip side and sort of dealing with something very personal to me and how I experienced it.**

 **I will note that I have not gone through the foster care system, so I've done some limited research and tried to come up with what I assume the best case is. We know things aren't always what we find on TV, not every foster home is perfect, nor are they all horror shows. Below is my attempt to find the balance.**

 **Biggest chapter to date but I do have some pretty crazy work days coming up so the next one might not be as quick** , **As always your reviews are truly loved, especially with some of these emotional chapters.**

* * *

The next week- Peter would like to say it was a blur, but it wasn't. Every moment was in excruciating detail. Each minute spent in that house that was not his, the room that was not his. Each meal made that tasted like nothing at all despite all the flavors and spice. The funeral that seemed far too short and at the same time, an eternity too long.

Funerals themselves were odd affairs. He was sad, there was a moment when the eulogies and stories about May were being shared and he cried. There were also happy moments. Ned and MJ- so many classmates even some teachers made appearances. Not for May, most of them didn't know her, but to show their support. May's co-workers came, some with their families, others without.

There were some funny work stories he heard, kind words about how sweet his Aunt was. He knew. He knew how great she was. It wasn't fair.

Neither he nor May were overly religious, so in lieu of having a minister speak it was more of a grass roots affair. Mr. Leeds was able to keep an even keel while speaking words prepared about May, then opened the floor up for others to come up and share their stories, to say a few words. Peter wasn't the first. He wasn't the second. He sat there in the front with Ned beside him and Mrs. Leeds on the other side. Emma was there too but she politely remained in the back.

No one would force him to get up and speak- he knew that, but they were all waiting for him to. He also knew, somewhere deep down, that he had to muster the courage. This was May's farewell, she deserved every ounce of his will power no matter how torn and tattered it left his soul. The speakers dwindled down, longer between each person standing to share kind words or a story. When the silence seemed to stretch he finally pushed himself up, before Ned could sit down from having shared his own words about May.

He approached the little stand they had set up, hands sweaty; he was sure even if he tried he couldn't stick to any wall. His throat was dry, breathing impossible. He looked out over the sitting crowd, some eyes kind, others red and puffy and still more looking at him with sympathy. None of that bothered him.

A glance to the side, where her casket rested, had his breathing hitching, hands tight to the point of almost breaking the stand had he not reigned in his control at the last second. A hand was on his back, Mr. Leeds, Peter glanced up, tears already on his cheeks. "Take your time." He nodded, shifting and wiping his face with the back of his hand despite the tissues there on the little stand for speakers to use.

He didn't remember what he said. There were some laughs, some jokes trying to capture her wonderful spirit, there were tears as he talked of missing her and how a light had gone out in the world- he didn't really say something that corny of course but he'd said just as much in his own way.

Tears ended up free falling as he struggled through before thanking everyone, letting them know how much it meant to him, and to May that they were there. He'd joked at some point about eating her out of house and home as any teenage boy would do so it seemed like the perfect way to close, by mentioning the wake and food. Mr. Leeds gave him a nod before Peter returned to his seat where Mrs. Leeds was ready to envelope him in a hug and he continued to cry into her shoulder.

He cried for May. He had cried for May, but in a selfish way he cried for himself.

The funeral did little to help him overcome the fact that May was gone. The chapter wasn't over, the book wasn't closed. The funeral had brought two facts to light.

First- Emma wasn't meant to house him permanently so following the funeral he'd been given information about his upcoming transfer to a more long-term group home for teens, wards of the state.

Second- Tony wasn't coming.

It hurt, it hit him like a ton of bricks...or maybe a thousand tons of bricks given his abilities. Whatever, it hit hard. He'd called, he'd left a message...surely Happy heard, he'd let Tony know right? Peter knew Iron Man was busy but surely, he'd come to the funeral? Peter had been seeing all the posts, the UN wouldn't let the Avengers take action so...so it wasn't like he was busy on missions… Unless they were secret missions but still...Wouldn't...wouldn't he come? Or call? Or text?

Nothing.

Tony wasn't coming, that meant his relocation was a reality. And it hurt. Ned had brought it up once or twice, asking if he'd heard from Mr. Stark and Peter was ashamed of the fact that he'd hung up on his friend. He couldn't take it. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to face the truth. Tony had given him the suit, but...but that was it. An exchange of a good for a service, for his help in Germany, it was the only explanation. Who had he been fooling? The idea that Tony Stark would come to his rescue?

There wasn't much time before the funeral to worry about it, and afterwards things were moving too quickly. He was told to pack up- assuming his suitcase and backpack would be searched again- wherever he was going, Peter did the only thing he could think of. Wearing the suit under his clothing wouldn't work- it rode too high up on his neck and the gloves were attached. He did however wear it under his clothing, pressed between his front and his outerwear. The legs ran down his pants, the suit held in place by a snug waist line with the arms wrapped around his chest- not knotted as that would stick out but wrapped around as best as possible. The mask had been shoved down inside the chest of the suit and Peter was thankful his shirt was a bit loose and wrinkled, it would hide proof of the suit's existence. He hoped.

Did it matter? Of course. Was he still Spiderman? He...wasn't sure. Well, he was, he could still climb walls and all, but his webbing...he'd been running low, meant to make some in school… But that was before. He shook his head with a sigh, staring out the window as the woman (turns out his social worker's name was, ironically Karen) drove him to the group home he'd be staying at. She'd told him the place was run by a mother son duo and that he was very lucky, she'd pulled some strings to get him placed into the house. She told him of percentages, how the kids who were there ended up successful. She talked about the positives and he knew what she wasn't saying, how easy it would be to fall into the system. Ha, he was in the system. It was a twisted sort of funny.

She told him that the estate was being handled, that any revenue from the sale of the estate would go into a fund that he would receive when he turned 18, something to help him out. She used those terms, but he knew what she meant. Their apartment, everything that had been left behind, May's things, it had been sold. He was numb to it.

The drive would last hours, headed upstate from the city and he wondered how close they were to the Avenger's facility. It didn't matter of course, his heart sank. Two sides of him at war. He was in every way still the hopeful kid- but the moment those thoughts came to the forefront of his mind they were trampled under the harsh reality of his situation.

Eventually the one-sided conversation would taper off, Karen turned on some music and Peter shifted trying to get comfortable.

He had no idea where they were when they exited the highway, he hadn't been paying enough attention to the signs, and before long they were rolling up to a...to a building. It was on the border of what appeared to be residential and business areas. Not really business looking...but certainly not a house. It was a two-story building that sorta resembled one of those rent- a -halls Peter saw on some of May's Hallmark movies. Where they had baby showers and all that boring stuff.

The building itself was in good condition, there was some basic seating outside in a small but well-kept yard. Some plants and flowers lined the outside of the building, disappearing around the back where Pete assumed they continued all the way around. It wasn't a horrible building by any means, showing its age but in a maintained sort of way. It didn't matter. It wasn't home; but there wasn't a home to go back to.

"Come on Pete." Karen requested as she got out of the car. He adjusted the suit under his shirt before getting out, grabbing his things as he had before and following her inside.

The moment the door opened for him he was assaulted, like a wall, invading his senses and setting off his spidey sense. He stumbled, eyes wide on alert but unable to pinpoint the direction of the danger. "What...what is that?!" He wondered, a bit panicked.

Karen only chuckled, "Oh...yes I'm sorry, I forgot to mention. Mrs. Henly likes to use natural oils and other things, completely harmless and I'd say way better than the smell of the city wouldn't you?" She wasn't aware of his senses going crazy and Peter focused hard to keep it that way. For all Karen observed he was no different than any other teen boy she'd brought to this house, instantly assaulted as if personally offended by the sweet smell of peppermint oil, lavender or other fresh (albeit feminine) scents.

"Karen is that you?" Another voice called from within. Peter was getting his bearings, realizing they were in a large open space of sorts. To one side a decent sized flat screen tv with a few couches and chairs, the other end seemed to be lunch room style seating with a few round tables and folding chairs. Beyond that a wall with a pass-through window which seemed to lead to a kitchen. If something was cooking he couldn't tell over the smell. Peppermint, it was...had it always been so nasty? He was pretty sure he'd had a candy cane at some point and wasn't this disgusted but...then again, he and May liked the Sweetart ones. May.

"We're out here." Karen called back as another woman came out. She had brown hair in a sort bob cut, Peter wasn't sure how old she was, he didn't exactly go around guessing women's ages, but she was certainly older than Karen or Emma. She was a little on the heavier side with crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. As someone who never had extended family to reference he'd say she was either an old mom, or a younger grandma. Maybe, it didn't really matter. She was the adult and he was, well he was the kid.

"Oh hello, you must be Peter," She gave as she neared them, having left through a side door off the kitchen. "I'm Abigail Henly. The boys just call me Mrs. H." Was offered, not going for a handshake or hug, instead offering just a little wave. Like Emma, she'd dealt with all sorts of cases and touch could be a trigger. "My son, John- He helps me with the house. I think you'll like it here Peter. John's out running some errands, but I can help you get settled and then maybe you can help me finish up dinner before everyone gets home from school?" He nodded deftly. What would refusing earn him? Nothing in the long run. "Alright why don't you say goodbye to Karen."

He blinked, glancing between the two. "...bye." He didn't feel any sort of attachment, not that the other had done anything wrong but he didn't think it was that big of a moment. Karen remained polite, letting him know she'd be checking in on him but saw herself out before Peter's attention turned back to Mrs. Henly.

"This way Peter." She instructed, leading him through a doorway that led to a hall with a few doors. "The showers are here, my room and John's are also located on the first floor. There's an office- John mostly uses that but there's also a computer for school use." He had his laptop so he wasn't really worried. There was another door or two but they didn't pass them on their way to the stairs so for now they remained a mystery. Mrs. Henly moved up them slowly, leaning heavily on the handrail. Bad knees, she'd explain to Peter as he followed her up.

She would go on to point out the various bedrooms here, naming some of the boys. Who Peter might like, who is a little troublesome. She spoke affectionately about all of them. Peter wanted to hate her, to simply loath this whole situation but she wasn't evil, and he didn't have the mindset for that sort of thing. He was too distracted to focus on his emotions anyway, his spidey sense continued to flare. Normally it would alert him, duck, dodge, behind you, look up, look down. It would go off and instinctually he'd be able to take action to avoid danger even if he didn't actually see it yet. Here and now it was going off as if danger was in every direction but no matter where he looked there was nothing. It wasn't painful so much as it was persistent.

"You're in here dear, with Toby." She motioned for him to set his things down on the twin sized bed and he did. "He's a good boy." She offered, "About your age." As she spoke she would 'help' him unpack, very similar to how Emma had. He didn't fight it, didn't argue. It was demeaning and degrading in a way, why was he being treated like he'd done something wrong? Still, his biggest secret was well kept and that was all that mattered.

When she was done she turned to him, assessing. He could be carrying something on his person but Mrs. Henly didn't think him the type and there was nothing in his file to indicate such so instead a quick luggage check was all he got. Trust but verify and don't tighten the noose until you were given reason to. That's what her father had always taught her and that was how she ran her house.

"Alright dear, John will go over some of the formal rules for the house but keep your nose clean and we won't have any reason to revisit them. We're the reasonable sort, we'll be nice just as long as you don't take that for granted and we'll do everything we can to help you as long as you work with us okay?" He nodded, still silent. Did she...did she not smell that? Was it not overwhelming? Was this what those noseblind commercials were talking about?

"Everyone should be home in a little while; would you like to help me downstairs?" She wondered, giving him the choice.

"Can I... Can I just stay here?" He wondered, she nodded.

"Of course dear. I expect you to join us for dinner, we'll introduce you to everyone then. I'll send Toby up to get you when it's ready if we don't see you sooner." With that and a reminder that she would be right downstairs- she stepped out, moving down the hall before slowly descending the stairs.

He sighed, moving to the window and immediately lifting it, it only opened about half way but it was enough for the fresh air to give him some relief. Peppermint. Bleh. After a few deep breaths that did little, the scent still thick in the air, he straightened up and glanced around the room. He needed somewhere to hide the suit. Chocolate brown eyes would search but this facility was meant to keep hiding spots to a minimum and if Tony Stark had proved anything- he was terrible at hiding his suit.

Unless.

He glanced towards the window kicking off his shoes before moving over to it, it wasn't open super wide but wide enough. Several long minutes were spent looking to see if anyone could see the window but thankfully, this side of the building opened up to the back of some sort of large cement building over an alleyway, some business located on the other side. Deciding it was now or never he only paused to grab a black t shirt from his things before crawling out the window and onto the roof. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't hear or see anyone catch sight of him.

The roof was flat, with a lip about knee height which blocked him from view if he stayed towards the center or crouched down. There was an access door but from the looks of it, no one had used it in some time- felt a flood of relief. He spent a little while looking around for signs that anyone came up there but was satisfied in the end. The suit would be wrapped up in the black shirt to make it less noticeable and stuffed into one of the corners behind a pipe coming out of the roof. A bit of debris was added just to help keep attention from it- just in case, before he carefully made his way back down and into his room.

Secret safe-ish. He sighed and collapsed onto his bed, feeling like the mattress itself was soaked in peppermint. He groaned as he pulled the flat pillow to his chest, hugging it there. He missed May. He missed her so much, but he didn't have the time to sit here and mourn her. He knew he was alone. He was alone, no one was going to help him, he had to make this work. He had Ned- Ned's family, but he knew they couldn't take him in, if Tony Stark wasn't going to help him how could he expect anyone else to? He wouldn't cut his friend out of his life, but he also wasn't going to expect that they be able to do anything to save him from...from his situation.

His spidey sense continued to flare and he curled around the pillow. What was it? Why was it giving him trouble? There was nothing here! The danger couldn't be everywhere! That didn't make any sense.

Whether he fell asleep or blacked out he wasn't certain, but the next time Peter came around it was to someone knocking on the opened door, "Hey new kid! Dinner's ready let's go!" He blinked, sluggish, his head was pounding. His spidey sense didn't seem to be bothering him as much but that could just be due to the headache.

"I'm up...I'm up." There were voices, so many voices coming from downstairs. It was too loud. He shook it off. He'd fought Captain America- he couldn't let a headache get the better of him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled out of bed, pulling his shoes back on if only to feel a little more confident before making his way downstairs, following the other teen who introduced himself as Toby.

The other teen wasn't much different than him, on the thinner side, slightly lighter hair and skin but otherwise an average teen. Peter didn't much pay attention to those sorts of details. The others he saw crowded around the tables ranged in ages- all maybe thirteen or older if he had to guess with varying shades of skin and hair and eyes. Introductions were quick, they were a wild pack of teenage boys and Mrs. Henly was a saint to be keeping them.

John introduced himself, he was around May's age, maybe a little older, he offered out his hand for a firm shake that Peter returned before he was guided to a chair. After the semi organized introductions, dinner- which was lasagna with garlic bread, was served. The noise level increased as the conversations started back up. He flinched but focused on keeping his breathing calm through the headache and simply turned his attention to the plate of food he was offered. He was hungry but quickly noticed that once everyone had a wedge of pasta and a piece of bread, there was no more, unless it was hidden in the kitchen. The food was enough- would have been enough for him before coming into his powers but now he knew he'd be counting the hours until breakfast.

Questions were tossed his way. How old was he, where did he live before, how long had he been in the system- Mrs. H shushed a boy for that question. What sort of movies did he like, music, all the easy things with no one needing to ask why exactly he was there. This, today, here and now, it was the beginning of the rest of his life.

He must have zoned out at some point, "Peter?" he blinked, glancing over to the older man. "Peter I was asking if you're feeling alright. You've hardly touched your food." The man sounded kind and concerned, nodding towards the plate in front of the teen.

Peter followed the gesture before blinking as he looked around, almost everyone was finished, he was hungry, how had he spaced out so bad? "Ye-yeah it's fine...Sorry. I just...I've had a headache." A growing one, if it wasn't the pain it was his spidey sense going off and distracting him. He didn't want to risk losing out on the meal and despite feeling uneasy he would wolf down his dinner in record time.

"Brad, Des. You two are on clean up." Two echoes of 'Yes Mrs. H.' Were given when all the teens began to disperse after the meal save for the two tasked with cleaning off the tables and doing the dishes.

John stood, his focus remaining on their newest addition, "Peter? Will you come talk with me?" The teen hero nodded and followed him to his office. John made sure to leave the office door open while motioning for Peter to sit. It wasn't a very fancy room, an ikea style desk with an older but decent computer on it, another smaller desk against the wall held a second computer, messy stacks of paper rested here and there about the room gave it a very lived in feel.

For a moment, the smell of peppermint drifted away and Peter let out a sigh only to have his senses assaulted by another. He must have made a face because John chuckled, "Is it the smell? Sorry. Mom goes a little over board with the natural remedies and cleaning products. Peppermint oil has a million and one uses according to her and having grown up with it I can't really argue. My office, my smells though. Let's be honest Pete, peppermint isn't the most manly scent."

"What is it?" He wondered, the different scent, part of it smelled good, like really good, but part of it seemed to make his stomach flip, or maybe that was just the headache brought on by his spidey sense acting up- or maybe the spidey sense was acting up because of the headache? Which had come first? He couldn't really recall.

"Citronella oil. I think it smells like lemons." Peter liked lemonade but...there was something that was just off about it. John didn't focus on it too much, most of the kids that came through were equally confused and surprised. Then again most of them weren't used to three meals a day and a bed to call their own, not all came like Peter- with no living family. Most came from abuse situations, some came from parents mentally no longer able to care for them, some from drug houses and more. Each kid had their own story and John would personally say that Peter's situation was a bit rare.

"So Peter. Let's talk, a lot has happened. I've been told that you're a smart kid, going to a science school in the city?" He wondered, he had the file but this was to get the conversation going.

Peter shrugged, still modest. "Science and tech...I wasn't the smartest though."

"Still, that's something to be a little proud of. I'm sorry about your situation and honestly, I can't promise you everything's going to be amazing and better instantly. What I can promise is that while you're here, I'm going to do what I can to help you. That's a two-way street, you understand? I get that you're going through a lot right now, I've seen it before and I don't want you to think the first time you screw up is the end of the world, but I need you to be smart about your actions. There are a lot of places teens end up when they have nowhere to go and I think you're smart enough to realize that this place isn't so bad." Objectively, everything John was saying made sense, from the outside looking in it was a clean building, in good repair- if lived in, he had a bed, food, even some creature comforts like the TV he'd seen and could hear being watched in the other room. It didn't make him feel better though, so he only numbly nodded.

"We have some major rules but mostly we've got guidelines, you're old enough to make decisions for yourself, you just need to decide if those decisions allow you to continue living in this house or move you to a facility that will make decisions for you." Was that some sort of warning? A threat? No...Peter understood, this place was probably the best he was going to get, it was friendly advice, screw up and he could end up in one of those horror story places. He didn't want that. He had to make the best of this. No one was coming for him.

"Do you have any questions for me?" Did he? Peter shook his head. He had a million questions and none of them John could answer.

The next hour was spent listening to various bits of information. Where he would go to school and when, what the routine of the house was, how everyone chipped in for chores. School was walking distance, so he could choose to walk as some boys did, or John dropped them off and picked them up with the large van he had parked out front. Peter hadn't seen it yet, but he could imagine the sort it was- one with twelve seats or so like churches used.

Peter would have his share of the responsibilities and when he turned sixteen he could work on getting a job. John was somewhat happy to say that there were several places in town he worked with willing to give the boys a start, fast food and the grocery store for examples.

It was an important conversation, but Peter struggled to take it all in. His head hurt, his stomach was doing flips, there was a ringing in his ears that grew deafening. Breathing came short as John continued to calmly explain how life in the house worked until the older man snapped his name, "Peter?" Panicked brown eyes met the call of his name and John shifted out of his seat, "Easy… Easy Peter just breathe. Okay? Just breathe. Come on, tilt your head down, hands up…" John moved around his desk to help the other, bending him a little at the waist and helping him lace his hands on top of his head before John rubbed at his back while Peter struggled to breathe through his panic attack.

It could have been seconds or minutes later he wasn't sure but eventually the world came back into focus and he could once again hear John's voice, calm and encouraging. "That's it. In and out. It's okay."

"I-I'm...I'm sorry…" He blurted out, shaking as arms went around his frame.

"It's alright Peter. Nothing to be sorry about. Why don't we get you to bed okay? The weekend is coming up, there's no rush to do anything but get used to things alright? Don't worry, we won't give you toilet cleaning duty your first week here." John tried to offer a small joke, squeezing's Pete shoulder but it fell short as Peter merely latched onto the idea of ending the conversation.

Standing and following John out he caught sight of a few others near the entrance to the large living and dining space, freezing for a second, they all stared before he caught several expressions and dread set in. The door had been open. They knew he'd had a panic attack and from the looks of it, they weren't as okay with it as John was. He was already the outcast among outcasts.

He felt the sting in his eyes, tears threatening to well up. He didn't care, he shouldn't care- It was high school all over again- but it was different, he lived here, with them. There would be no escape and he was just being pathetic. He tried to remind himself that he'd faced down Captain America. He was stronger than this, but as John stopped at his room, Peter barely managed to offer a good night without his voice cracking before muffling his sobs against the flat pillow. He could only be thankful that Toby came back to the room sometime after he'd cried himself to sleep.

* * *

 _So that's it, another chapter done. How many times can I have Peter cry himself to sleep?_

 **Opened my back door this morning to realize the gate was open and one of my dogs was gone. Felt sheer and utter terror until I spotted her across the way at the neighbor's. Going to use that motivation when Tony catches up to the 'what's happening with Peter' story.**


	7. Chapter 7

Several weeks after his call to Rogers, his conversation with Rhodey, and the start of his social media trending war- a plan fully was underway.

'What's in Ross's closet' was phase two of that plan. They all knew, going back to how he'd handled the Hulk incidents in New York- long before the Avengers came to be, that Ross was far from a squeaky clean individual. The odd mash up of Rhodey and Black Widow were on that assignment. Cap and the rest of his team were laying…mostly low. Going out on Wakanda sanctioned missions. After the craziness that occurred, Wakanda had withdrawn from the Accords and was free to let superheroes do as they pleased within their borders and most of the surrounding nations that had also not ratified the Accords. This was good, they needed the positive news showing how Steve Rogers and his team were helping; by stopping weapons deals, drug rings, poachers and more. All of that without a special UN approved panel telling them they could.

At the same time, Tony continued to have Friday assembling articles on things the Avengers could be doing but weren't because the panel, or Ross, didn't think it was necessary to bring them into help. What were the final death tolls in those instances? That was the hardest part. Sitting back and following orders when he knew there were people out there who needed help. Rogers had been right, it was too difficult to stand by because a boardroom said no.

When he was frustrated, he worked. Hunched over a station in his labs while he tinkered with fabric that was stretched out before him. "Didn't know you were going for the spandex look." Rhodey teased, having returned from his latest trip to the capital for intel.

Tony grunted, "Not for me." He gave without looking up from his work as James stepped closer, getting a better look at the suit.

"For the kid. When he's older." He shrugged. They were still in a good place- at least as far as Tony knew, Spiderman was sticking to the minor leagues and sending up anything that was too dangerous to the Avengers- then they waited for the UN to say it was okay to take out the threat. Of course, he wouldn't be a kid forever hence the upgrade- the only reason Tony wasn't about to give him the suit right now was because it packed a bit of a bigger punch and he wanted Peter a bit more responsible and seasoned before giving him additional power. Thankfully it seemed the kid was staying away from the dangerous stuff as there hadn't been any alerts and no signs of him biting off more than he could chew.

Before Rhodey could retort, Tony continued, "I figure I already upgrade everyone else's toys, wouldn't be fair for the kid to be the only one without a present at Christmas." It was nowhere near the holiday of course, but the explanation made sense. Rhodey knew the true meaning behind it and wouldn't tease Tony about it, not now anyway.

"Speaking of." Rhodey offered, "Can you take a look at the left rotator cuff? It was pinching a little on my last flight." Tony waved him off, of course he'd look at it. "I'm gunna go hit the shower. Meet me upstairs in twenty and we can discuss our next step in the war on Ross."

"Yes of course Honey Bear." Tony gave before ordering his music to play, to drown out any further attempts at conversation right now. Rhodey took his leave, metal braces on his legs helping him up the stairs with relative ease, something that was still impossible otherwise.

Tony was left with about thirty seconds of peace (peace for him being the blaring of AC/DC) before the music died. He stood up, needing a break from his work while dealing with whatever the interruption was. "What is it Fri?"

"Call from Happy Boss." Came the pleasant voice.

Tony considered it for a moment before nodding, "Alright. Put him through." Instantly the sounds of wharf, seabirds and the laughter from tourists in the background assaulted him. Before Happy had a chance, Tony had to wonder, "Are you on a beach?"

"Yeah I'm on a beach. I'm on vacation. Remember? Where am I supposed to go on vacation Tony? Huh?" His thick accent strong at the silly question. Happy was every bit the New Yorker and it was ever so easy to rile him up.

"You workin' on that tan?"

"Not that it's any of your business boss but yeah, I am. Too much cold up north. Liked it better when you lived in L.A." While Happy spoke, Tony moved to a separate work area with a computer instantly hacking the phone line and using one of his many satellites to zero in on his assistant. Happy was apparently stretched out on a beach lounger, in nothing but black swim trunks, sunglasses and his pasty white self. When Tony began to crack up, Happy instantly knew what was happening and flipped off the sky.

"Yo boss. I called you cause that kid's got me working my vacation."

The kid. Peter. "What's going on?" He wondered instantly, with just a hint of worry that only his long time employee would pick up on. The teen had been doing well, maybe too well? Perhaps he was calling to punt a problem up to the major league.

"I dunno, he said he wanted me to get a message to you, something about the suit."

Tony blinked, "Didn't you listen?"

Happy, on the monitor shrugged, phone held up to one here with a fruity beverage in the other hand, "Why would I do that? I don't know anything about the suit, he wanted you. Probably used his parachute again. I'm on vacation, you listen to it."

Tony rolled his eyes, neither of them realizing the grave mistake about to occur. "Alright alright geez. Send it over, I'll see what's up. Remind me again, why do I pay you?"

"I keep you humble boss." Was the snarky reply before Tony ended the satellite feed and the call easily enough.

"Friday. Play it." He ordered when he saw the message come through.

Peter's voice filled the speakers of the room, "Hey…Hey Happy… Could you, can you get this message to Mr. Stark? I uh…I have a question about the suit."

The kid caught buses and stood his ground against Cap, Tony really needed to talk to him about growing a pair in the verbal confidence department. Just one more thing on his long list of things to do. Standing he moved to head back his original workstation, only to fall through what could only be described as a burning hole in the ground. At least that's what it looked like.

He landed in a crouch on old marble that was not in his Tower. His tower was also very well lit, naturally, not this...this musty-ness?

His gaze shifted as he pushed himself up to stand. The...hole, disappeared in a shower of sparks and he felt the nanotech in his chest buzzing, ready to form his suit or anything he needed at a moment's notice.

"Tony Stark." Was called, drawing his attention to a...I'm sorry...was this guy actually wearing a cape? Dude, that was Thor's thing. And the facial hair? Uh, get your own look brotato. "Stephen Strange. I need your help."

He blinked, "I'm sorry, is that supposed to mean something to me?" he tilted his head to the side slightly, catching sight of another man nearby, "Is he eating a Tuna melt?"

Strange's gaze shifted to Wong and the other gave an apologetic shrug.

"Mr. Stark if we could focus-"

"Focus? Oh I'm focused. And I'm giving you five seconds to explain what the hell is going on here." Was given, angry but with the confidence of being Earth's mightiest defender.

Strange pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stark. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help." The other stared at him as if to say 'go on'. "I have a message from Thor."

Oh, well, that changed things. Tony blinked, stance relaxing if just slightly. "Point break?" He questioned instinctively causing the other man to now question him silently.

Strange decided not to focus on the weird comment. "I've been in contact with his ship-"

"Wait you? How? I have had every resource possible scanning for anything, anything." From Thor...From Banner. Even when he and Cap were at their worst he was still searching for their missing teammates. "And you're telling me you what? Just got a collect call from the God of Thunder? No, sorry, not buying it."

Strange resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I have no doubt you've got vast technologies out there Stark, but while you work in the mechanical, I work in the mystical." He tapped his hands, letting pointless sigils flare for just a moment in proof. "I operate on different frequencies and happened across the signal. Now then, would you like to help your friend, or shall we continue to stand here and argue about whose is bigger?" He questioned, taking the dig where he could get it it.

Tony's eyes narrowed, oh. He really didn't like this guy, mostly because well, Tony would have applauded him if the insult hadn't been directed his way. He considered for a moment before offering, "Fine. Let's do this. But I want a tuna melt." He gave, finger up in the air as to signal for a waiter. This time Strange did roll his eyes but nonetheless a plate would appear in Tony's free hand causing the billionaire to blink as he moved to follow Strange, "Holy shit...you're are a wizard." He stated, lifting the plate to examine, the mechanic in him trying to figure out the scientific answer to how it appeared, "Am I a wizard? Is this where we go to the sorting hat? I hate to tell you but I'm Ravenclaw all the way, ya know they did not get nearly enough credit. Too smart to get dragged into Harry's bullshit soap opera."

"Will you shut up?" Stephen wondered, half begging as he led Tony to what the other would describe as another musty room, thick with the scent of books and pine and filled with various artifacts.

"Oh sorry Gandolf." Tony offered, still inspecting his sandwich that had appeared from nowhere. Another form of nanotech perhaps? He took a bite to taste it, just for science.

"Oh my God, I'd rather face Dormammu again…" Strange admitted to himself in a moment of shock.

"Who? Did you give him a sock? I hear they like that." Tony stated, some words slightly garbled around the sandwich he was chewing.

Strange stared at him in disbelief. After several seconds he shook his head before waving his hand over a large pot. Tony would describe what happened next as a 3d video appearing but he saw none of the technologies needed for it. Interesting.

Thor's face appeared, but he was different, weathered. "Well hey there handsome. Get all cleaned up for little ole me?" He wondered with a smirk, "Ya know it's nowhere close to Halloween…" An eye patch?

Thor offered a smirk, one only a man who had lost much but still found a way to hold hope close could offer. "Stark, I have missed your vigor greatly."

Tony blinked, taking a moment to remember Thor's often hilarious speech patterns. "Uh yeah, listen, take me to dinner first okay? Geez I'm sleezy but not easy. Playboy code." He held up a few fingers as if making a boy scout pledge.

"Tony." The billionaire froze, "It's good to see you." The image shifted and Tony drew in a breath.

"Bruce…" For the first time Stephen saw the facade drop, the snarky sarcastic shell that Tony Stark wore just as well as he wore the Iron Man suit, fell away. "Hey...hey buddy...how ya been?"

"Been better, but I'm getting there." he offered back. Now wasn't exactly the time for the long winded catch up conversation, Bruce knew that so he kept his response short.

"So guys…" Tony started at the lull in the conversation, "I mean...What the hell?" That about summed it up.

Thor and Bruce shared a look, which was impressive given they had only 3 eyes between them. "A lot has transpired Stark." The blond offered, sobering a bit. "Asgard has fallen." There was a pause there, he didn't go into the details as he had before. Contrary to how he'd acted, Thor did remember Strange but the God of Thunder often hid behind the mask of being all muscle and no brain. He was an imposing figure already so by dumbing himself down people underestimated him. Now was not the time to downgrade his intelligence.

Tony blinked as Strange continued, "Thor is on is way to Earth with 827 individuals who need sanctuary." To put it simply.

The billionaire blinked. "I'm sorry...did I hear you right? You're bringing almost a thousand alien gods to this planet? And you need my help how? I don't know if any of you are aware but immigration is a hot button issue right now." At this point, Tony still recalled the voicemail from Peter. He'd need to listen to it again to see what the kid needed. He was human and not perfect but he was a genius so he could keep his thoughts ordered enough to recall said message.

"Come now Stark, where is that can do attitude?" Thor wondered, smiling a bit at the Man of Iron who was complaining still.

"Tony." Bruce's voice cut in, "They've got nowhere to go." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. This was exactly what he did not need, not when he was getting close to fixing the mess he'd made with Ultron, with the Accords and more.

"We've got the logistics figured out. Obviously I'm no happier at the idea of so many Asgardians wandering the planet. There's land, in Norway, if we're able to secure it-Wong and I can set up wards. No one needs to know the Asgardians are there and they can go on living their…" he gestured in the air, their lives, whatever those were, exactly.

"Great, so let's circle back to why I'm here? And if it's to compare looks- I win, hands down." He offered to Strange who maturely ignored the dig.

"Simply put we need your finances to secure the land." Strange gave, to the point as he crossed his arms.

Tony tilted his head, all while Thor and Bruce simply watched. "I'm sorry. Okay. First, am I just a paycheck to all of you?" He sounded upset but Bruce and Thor knew him well enough to know that Tony didn't care about the bottom line when it came to money so that wasn't his real gripe. "Second, aren't you a wizard? Can't you just wizard the money? Or at least the deed?" And there it was, his true issue with all of it. Of course, only Tony could be mad that the wizard couldn't magic his way to a solution

"It doesn't work like that…" But Stark wasn't having any of it and continued.

"For that matter, another thing. This tuna melt? Sub pair. At best. No, you know what? I'll do it. There. Saving the day again with my amazing finances." Let the praise be given.

"Tony." Bruce gave, the other scientist seemed to keep him grounded in moments like these. "There's one more thing you need to know…" The billionaire frowned, there was something in Banner's tone.

Up to that point, Tony remembered the message, he knew he needed to get back, to see what issues the kid was having with his suit. The moment Loki stepped into view every thought he had went blank.

"Hello Stark."

* * *

 **So there you have it, another chapter down. Can anyone really blame Tony for forgetting about the voicemail given the bombshell that is Loki was just dropped?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay so I work in finances (mortgages) and my focus is in efficiency gains. Basically I look at things and figure out why they happened and how they could be better.**

 **That being said I have discovered that ya'll tend to review more when we torture Peter. Now was does that say about the audience? XD**

 **Okay okay, bit of fun there. Here's the next chapter! When I originally wrote this section of Peter at the group home it ended up being extremely long, in the end while I was drafting this story I ended up breaking it into two parts which means we'll have some more Tony and Co. development and hopefully put some of those plot points to rest before getting to a bit of IronDad fluff.**

 **Thank you for continuing to stick with me and offering your comments, concerns and constructive critiques.**

* * *

"So...first house huh?" Toby confirmed the next day when Peter finally dragged himself from bed. It was Saturday so no school and apparently the other teen didn't have anywhere to be. "So what's your story?"

"My story?" Pete wondered.

"Yeah ya know. Why are you here?" It had been asked by a younger boy at dinner but the adults hadn't allowed it. "Look. I've been in seven houses. I have a deadbeat dad that used to beat me and my mom; and a mom so addicted to everything I'm pretty sure she doesn't realize I'm gone. Everyone's got a story. So what's your deal?" Toby- Toby Garfield that was, didn't seem bothered by his past, wasn't using it to one up Peter but to simply show that whatever his tale was, it didn't matter, it was what it was.

"My Aunt died." He stated, finding it easier than he thought to say. Clearly Toby didn't understand, "She...took care of me after my parents died..." Again, he found his resolve holding.

Toby blinked at him, "No...no shit really? You're like... _actually_ an orphan? Damn that sucks. At least I can guilt my parents into buying me shit every couple of years when they try to sober up."

Did it suck? Peter didn't want to focus on that right now. "Can you...like, what do I need to know? About the house?" He wondered, the blond haired teen seemed nice enough, at least open enough to tell him more.

"The house? Uh, sure." Toby shrugged from his place laying in bed, having been tossing a small football up into the air while waiting for Peter to be available for the aforementioned questions. "It's actually a pretty good place, ya know? Well no, I guess you don't. John and Mrs. H are a bit weird about things. Ya know natural stuff, like making you tea if you don't feel good. God man she uses oil for everything. Headache? Dab of oil, stomach ache? Oil. Bad grades? Oil. You get used it, she's harmless." He shrugged.

"Does the smell go away?" Peter wondered, sounding a bit disgusted and Toby laughed.

"I don't really smell it any more, people at school will, it's like infused in our clothes and shit, but fuck'em. Right?" Peter nodded slightly, sure. "Otherwise you do your chores and they're pretty relaxed. We've got curfews, different for each kid- depends on whether or not you've screwed up, if you got a job, stuff like that. Greg and Michael right now are the only two old enough to work. And they're about to age out so they can be assholes sometimes." He shrugged simply, "They both work around the corner. Sometimes Greg gets to bring home leftover food they were gunna throw away at the end of the shift which is pretty cool. Mrs. H does all home cooking which is nice cause we get good meals." Simply not enough for growing Spidermen, "But sometimes I just want a burger and fries." And Greg could apparently help with this.

The rest of the first week passed in a very similar fashion. Peter had lots of questions and so did the others in the house. For example after his first shower he had to wonder, "Why is there a plant in there?" In fact it was like two sticks with weird leaves tied up and hanging off the showerhead.

Another boy, Des- slightly younger than Peter, would laugh at the other teen's confusion, "It's Eucalyptus." He shrugged though, not having a better answer. Mrs. H did, apparently it opened the pores and the lungs. All the scents in the house apparently served some purpose. Better for the body or for cleaning.

News also spread quickly that Peter had a cell phone, and a laptop. One of the other teens pointed out that as soon as the bill wasn't paid, Pete's cell phone service would be shut off, but at least until then he could still call Ned without having to use the house phone. This also meant he could set up his mobile hotspot to get internet access on his laptop- who cared about how much data was used? The bill would just go unpaid and the service would be shut off anyway. Greg had come to him, offering a trade that Peter had jumped on instantly. Greg would bring him a burger meal from work in exchange for use of Peter's laptop.

His naivety worked against him and before the end of the first week his laptop had been confiscated by John due to whatever inappropriate things Greg had been looking at (and subsequently been caught doing), the extra food stopped instantly.

Peter was supposed to start school the week after his arrival but John had pulled him aside to break the news. There was less than a month left in the school year and apparently, that meant the school could just refuse. There was no way for Peter to complete the coursework necessary to successfully complete the year and unlike college, his work at Midtown wouldn't count towards it. He would have to repeat the year. That was a rough blow.

He tried to talk to Ned every night but it was getting harder. He knew none of this was Ned's fault but it was hard not to grow envious of his friend's situation, they had so little in common now worth discussing. He found himself shying away from speaking to Ned after their last call.

"So you aren't going to school?"

"No. Not until next year, I have to repeat 10th grade."

There was silence for a moment, "Uh...I guess that's cool for now though right? Few extra weeks of summer vacation?" Ned was trying, it was an impossible situation.

"Yeah few weeks off so I can add a _whole extra year_. I'll be kicked out of the house before I can complete high school, sounds awesome." Peter couldn't help himself, he was agitated, so much pent up inside. He was scratching his arm, it itched for no reason. The headache was a constant but at least his spidey sense had stopped going off.

"Dude...I'm sorry." Ned tried, he really didn't know what to say.

Peter sighed, instantly regretting the fact that he had snapped at his best friend. "No..Ned...It's not your fault I'm just...I haven't felt good."

"No it's okay you're going through a lot Pete. Still feeling bad?" They'd talked, granted they hadn't brought up any Spiderman stuff but Pete had hinted at his issues before.

"Yeah." He gave, sounding defeated, "And it's just like...I don't know. Mrs. H is nice but her answer for everything- everything is oil. Headache? Dab it behind your ears. Stomach ache? Rub it on your stomach! I'm pretty sure I'm covered in it. I smell like an elf. This is what elves smell like." He was positive.

Ned chuckled then, "Food's good though right?"

"Yeah." Pete had mentioned that. Mrs. H was way better than Mrs. Leeds or May with home cooking. Every meal was great, it just wasn't enough, he wanted more, he needed more.

"So uh...you see the new Star Trek movie yet?" Ned wondered, trying to find a topic.

"No." Peter hadn't, if May was still around he was sure he would have, he and Ned and maybe May too, would have gone to the movies. May would ask questions and completely not understand half of the storyline but she'd have fun with them. "I don't think we do that." He hadn't been here super long but there didn't seem to be a whole lot of outings. "Maybe when it comes to DVD." They had watched a few movies John obtained but he'd have to ask if they ever went out.

"My phone's gunna get shut off." He admitted. "No one is paying the bill." And he certainly didn't have the money to continue paying for it.

Ned didn't know what to say on the other end. He knew Peter's laptop had been taken, but now his phone too? "Are we gunna be able to talk still?"

"I don't know. I guess. There's a phone in John's office to use but he'll be in there." Not that they talked about anything super secret but it would still be a lack of privacy.

"That sucks." Yeah. It did. They couldn't talk about school, about the Decathlon team, about the new Star Wars Lego set Ned got, or the new movie. Peter was cut off from everything in his old life and that left them with so little to discuss. It hurt but Peter didn't call Ned again and Ned called less often. They both realized it even if neither would come out and say it.

While his conversations with Ned became less frequent, feeling subpar happened more often.

It was daily. Headache, stomach ache, pointless itching, sometimes a dizzy spell, too hot, too cold. Sometimes there was a pain behind his eyes, sometimes his throat burned. Mrs. H really did think oil solved everything and apparently, he didn't look like he felt good because she'd notice and have him apply the oil as needed to solve whatever was bothering him most.

The hunger was a near constant and it even kept him up at nights, counting the hours until the next meal, doing whatever he could to take a slightly bigger slice of whatever they were having.

He snapped at some of the others, he recognized he was agitated but he could do nothing but ride it out. Naturally that was the worst thing he could have done and at the two week mark of living in the house he'd snapped at the wrong person.

"Headache still dear? Here, little bit of this behind the ears." Mrs. H was giving as she drew out her trusty little bottle of oil ready to let him dab some on his fingers so he could put it on.

He couldn't take it anymore. Peter stood up quickly from where he sat at one of the folding tables, the chair skidding across the tile behind him and drawing the attention of others as he snapped. "I don't want it! I'm sick of this! It doesn't work. It doesn't. Stop...Just…Just **Stop**!" Okay, on the scale of breakdowns, of anger coming to a head, Peter's was rather mild, but he was naturally not the sort to curse or name call. Instead it was just him, shouting in agitation and slamming his hand down full force on the table. He realized his mistake a second later, expecting the table to break under the strength he had...but it didn't.

Mrs. H was surprised by his sudden outburst. Peter was surprised at his lack of strength. John however, who had been watching Peter's slow decline, wasn't surprised at all. "Parker." He barked, calling the teen over to him, for his part, the teen did look somewhat mortified as all attention was now focused on him.

"I'm sorry…" he managed, voice hoarse and remorseful as he looked to Mrs. H, her expression guarded.

"Go on dear." She gave, nodding towards her son and Peter robotically moved to follow the other.

John led him to his office and motioned for him to take a seat. "Want to tell me what that was about?" John sounded more reserved, colder, than he had before. Peter didn't blame him, he'd just shouted at man's mom.

"I don't…I don't know. I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I just don't feel good." He didn't, god, he was cranky. Could he blame it on that?

John seemed to watch him, looking for something- what it was, Peter was unsure.

"Pete. I didn't expect your transition to be easy. You've gone through a lot. I did give you the benefit of the doubt. You've claimed you have a headache almost constantly. Upset stomach, itchy skin, sleep issues...There are times you just zone out, irritable and now this." John was right, he was telling the truth. "I'd like to believe your emotional state is affecting your physical state- it can happen, but I think you're smart enough to realize what all those signs point to."

Peter wasn't. He really wasn't, and so he stared in silence, mind trying to put the pieces together but drawing a blank. John reached into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a clear plastic cup with a lid that he sat down on his desk, right in front of Peter. Oh. Oh.

Brown eyes widened, "No- John I...I don't...I'm _not_ on drugs." Why did that seem so embarrassing?

"And I want to believe you Pete, but your actions aren't demonstrating that. So let's just get this over with." His stomach dropped out. How had he gone from being Spiderman, from being a good kid at a great school- to this moment?

He swallowed, or tried to, but his mouth was dry. What if his mutation messed with the test? "Please...We don't need to do this."

John was already standing. "Peter this is happening, resisting really isn't helping your case. Come on." He grabbed the cup before beginning to herd Peter. He felt like the short walk from office to bathroom was like that walk from the old Green Mile movie. Dead man walking. The others who'd been in the living room were all watching, clearly interested in all the drama.

Into the bathroom they went, it was set up like a gym bathroom, with several stalls and showers down at the end. The cup was offered out and John's stern expression prevented any further protests. Stepping away he resigned himself to doing the deed, when he came out he barely noticed that John had obtained gloves from somewhere, taking the cup and setting it on the edge of a sink before opening the little kit he had. Peter just stood there in silence. He knew he didn't do drugs- he wouldn't! But it didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

Soon enough John was sighing in relief. "Well that's good news Pete. You're clean." Pete knew that. "I'm going to clean up here, why don't you head to bed. We'll talk later about your outburst okay?" Peter nodded, wanting nothing more than to disappear into his room. He did just that, taking the stairs up two at a time. Tears came again, he felt violated, even if he wasn't on drugs the fact that he was...That someone had thought he would. That his word wasn't trusted, that this was his reality.

He wanted May, he wanted her back but he knew she was never coming. Why hadn't Tony come for him?

He didn't know when he fell asleep but he was glad it was before Toby could return to their room.

"Dude...Pete...Pete!" Toby called, rousing Peter from his sleep the next morning. It was early, the other teens would be heading off to school, leaving Pete alone for the day. He didn't have to be up early, but apparently the blond thought he should be.

A pillow came sailing across the room and he grunted as he sat up with a glare over. Toby only laughed, "Do you know you talk in your sleep?"

For the second time and less than 24 hours his stomach dropped, "What?"

"You talk in your sleep. Or at least last night you did. Don't worry, it's cool, so long as you don't snore."

"Did I...did I say anything?" Anything incriminating?

"Nothing that made sense, it was pretty funny. You were asking Tony Stark to come get you." And Toby thought that was hilarious.

"O...oh? Yeah I...I don't remember." he shrugged, it was a dream right? He couldn't be held accountable for what he said in them. He honestly didn't even remember dreaming.

They didn't have time to talk more as John knocked on the door, "Hey guys. Pete. Why don't you get up and dressed? We've got an appointment with the doctor, see if we can't get you feeling better." John moved away then, checking on the other boys to make sure everyone was getting up for school.

Peter didn't feel up to breakfast- he was hungry but also nauseous so remained in bed while Toby headed off to shower. No sense going down now and waiting in line. As the other teens moved to grab breakfast, he headed down with his things to shower. After, he took his things back up to the room before heading down again to find John.

Entering what he'd dubbed the great hall, he blinked. His Spidey sense wasn't going off but he felt like there was something wrong. A few of the others were looking in his direction and chuckling. "Save me Iron Man!" One of the older teens finally cried out, mockingly. "Please come save little orphan me!" Peter looked to Toby who merely shrugged, it wasn't meant to be a secret was it? Toby wasn't joining in on the teasing, but he also didn't look guilty for having shared what Peter talked about in his sleep.

"Alright guys. Let's get going. Pete, you too." They'd be going to the appointment after dropping everyone else off it seemed.

"Yeah come on Pete." Michael, the boy who'd been teasing, gave as he looped an arm over Peter's shoulders, all but dragging him outside and to the van. "Come sit with us." He gave, loud enough for John to hear before all but shoving Pete to the back of the Van with him and Greg.

Sat in the middle Peter merely tried to ignore the two but they weren't going to make it easy, "Gunna have another pity party Parker? Come on, everyone knows you got caught, so what is it you do? Probably just Adderall. You come in here trying to act like you're Mr. Perfect Parker."

"I'm not-"

Greg cut in, voice mocking Peter's "No John! I don't do drugs. I'm a good boy! I am! Gee golly gosh I'm so mad Mrs. H!" John clearly couldn't hear them at the back of the bus and Peter didn't really want the older man to come to his rescue anyway, that would just make it worse.

"Face it Parker." Mike gave, "You're just as messed up as the rest of us, only we're not whiney ass bitches thinking Iron Man's gunna come rescue us." The van rolled to a stop and John ordered them all out. As Michael crawled passed Peter his arm darted out as if to sucker punch Peter in the gut and while his spidey sense didn't go off, Peter did flinch instinctively which only had the older teen laughing.

"Pete!" John called, "Why don't you come up here?" He would, moving to the passenger seat once all the others were out and halfway inside the building. He didn't bother mentioning what had happened to John, it wouldn't help anything. At least they weren't calling him Penis Parker.

The doctor visit was a simple affair. He was weighed, not sure if he'd gained or lost really, he didn't pay much attention to that sort of thing. His temperature was taken, the doctor looked in his ears, and his throat. In the end, the doctor's expert opinion was that he had the flu, bed rest and fluids were the recommendation- along with antibiotics just in case as he did have swollen lymph nodes. It was out of season for the flu but given the emotional stress he'd been under the doctor wasn't really surprised, it seemed he was used to dealing with the wayward teens from the house.

Back in the van John offered him a smile, "Looks like you're off chore duty for a while." They'd get Peter feeling better first. "Do you feel up to grocery shopping or would you rather go home?" John left the choice up to Pete, the teen didn't feel well but he also hadn't had much opportunity to get out of the house. Besides, some things he was picking up would be for Peter. Mrs. H was going to make a batch of her cure all chicken noodle soup.

"We can go to the store." Pete actually liked the idea of staying out a bit longer. John nodded and would drive them back towards home, taking them to the grocery store on the other side of the concrete wall his window looked out to. It was the first time he was seeing the front side. There was a Burger King towards the front of the parking lot, a T Mobile as well. Built into the same strip mall as the grocery store were several other smaller shops. A Hallmark store with a big sign indicating they shipped UPS items. A dollar store with over the top window signs explaining that everything was a dollar, what looked to be nail salon and something further down that Pete couldn't see well enough from the opposite end where John parked the car.

Grocery shopping was...well it was. He realized there was a reason why he never went with May. It wasn't bad, just boring. He was sick so he didn't need to be touching the food and there wasn't much for him to do to help as John pushed the cart through the aisles. Peter pushed a second one because feeding a dozen teens required two carts per trip. John did ask for his input on cookies though. Original or chewy? Naturally chewy was the only answer that made sense and John nodded in agreement.

By the time they moved to check out Peter was starting to feel a little bit better. Maybe it was just the fresh air, or knowing that the doctor didn't think he was dying. He wanted to help with loading the van but John insisted he take it easy so Pete just returned both carts to the corral before getting in and taking the short trip around the block to home.

Off to bed he was sent and he didn't really mind, he was feeling a little better and maybe rest was all he needed. Kicking off his shoes he tried to forget Greg and Mike.

* * *

So there we have it! Another chapter down. Several of you already commented on links between the house and Peter not feeling well. Can you imagine what Tony's reaction is going to be?

As always, reviews make me feel good. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow! I am just overwhelmed! The continued support for my story is truly inspirational.**

 **We also proved my theory, ya'll love Peter getting whumped. How about a little Tony angst instead?**

 **As a note, this chapter was intentionally designed to leave you with questions so don't think it was posted in error :)**

* * *

"You know what? I deserve a god damn medal. And a parade. No. No. National holiday- _International_ holiday. There you go. Everyone take the day off. Bask in the awesomeness that is me. Me. Fixer of everything, Solver of the things."

Phone on speaker, Steven smirked, "Hello Tony." He was completely unphased by the other's rant.

"Rogers, don't get coy with me. Not now." The blond could envision the other pointing a finger at him. "No, you know what. Listen to me. I'm the Captain now."

Steve couldn't help it, he did chuckle slightly. "You know…I actually get that reference."

"Oh so they got On Demand in Wakanda? What else they got? Maybe a little precious metal you want to bring me back?" Tony wondered, unable to sit still and instead walking around his office while tossing a ball into the air repeatedly.

"That really isn't up to me, but I'll see if I can bring you a souvenir." Wakanda was rich in Vibranium and it seemed Tony only needed to see the Black Panther suit in action to know what it was made from. Whether or not T'Challa would part with any for Iron Man was questionable but the King seemed to be rather open to the idea of their unified front against the terrors of the planet (and those from beyond as well).

"Yeah well, pardons should be going through this week. Ratifying the Accords themselves will take…" Tony sniffed slightly, "Considerably longer but we have a temporary hold in place. Considering I thought I'd have a bit longer before the next crisis I'd say we aren't doing too shabby." Before Steve could comment or compliment Tony on all he'd done the other continued, "And by we, I mean me of course, you lot are just enjoying your Amazon vacation."

"You do know that Wakanda and the Amazon rainforest are on different continents, right?" Steve was pretty sure he did.

"Are they though?" Tony said, with the confidence that could make just about anyone change their mind.

"Tony." Steve gave, in _that_ tone. The one that said Tony was funny but they had more serious matters to discuss.

The billionaire sighed dramatically. "You know, the fact that I'm coordinating pardons for you and the rest of your motley crew of outlaws, while at the same time helping a _wizard_ set up a secret refugee camp for Asgardians should earn me a bit more kudos than this."

"Is that why you're doing all this?" Steve wondered.

Tony didn't even skip a beat. "Of course, that's exactly why I'm doing this, so I can lord it over the rest of you. I'm saving a thousand Gods. _Gods_ Steve, they owe me. Big time." Both men knew that wasn't, ultimately, why Stark was doing it, but he couldn't let everyone see that he was as soft and squishy as the rest of them under that hard metal exterior.

"Is there something I can help you with?" It was almost a game, figuring out how to get Tony to the point, the real point of any communication.

"Tired of me already? Okay Capcake-Yeah there is. The second those pardons go through you and your team go all covert like to Norway. Thor needs all the help he can get at the moment and if I go anywhere near the country someone is going to know somethings up. I've already had a hard enough time covering the money trail."

"Basically, you want eyes on Loki." Steve had heard from Tony previously, that the God of mischief was on his way, Banner too. Everything Stark had said up to that point could be summed up in that one sentence.

"Yeah got it in one. Bruce and Thor seem to trust him, I'm not sold yet." Neither was Steve for that matter.

"We'll check it out. Send over the coordinates."

Tony smirked on his end of the phone, "Don't worry about that. I got a guy, owes me one. Just do me a favor and tell Clint to have his camera ready." Capturing the Falcon screaming in terror as he fell through a magic portal would be worth all the stress he'd been under these last several weeks.

"…Alright." Steve didn't know what to make of it but in all the craziness of the world these days, he figured it was best not to question it. "What the ETA on Thor and his people?"

"Two days." So they were cutting it close, even if the pardons didn't come through, Steve and his team would still be there to help. It was what they did, it would simply be risker to go to countries that had ratified the Accords, putting Tony's efforts to change things in jeopardy.

"Alright. We'll be there as soon as we have the all clear."

"Damn straight you will be." Was given before a dramatic, "Stark out."

Smirking, Steve shook his head before catching the somewhat perturbed gaze of the Wakandan King. "Is he always like that?" It caused the blond to chuckle.

"You get used to it."

Hands went up in a placating gesture, "Please, take that man all the Vibranium he needs. Keep him as far away from my country as possible." A joke, mostly.

Steve gave him a look, "You don't want him and Shuri in the same room." Was the accusation and T'Challa smirked, unable to keep a straight face.

"Could you imagine? The world would end. I am doing us both a favor." And while T'Challa wouldn't part with all his precious metal, he did keep the thought in mind. Stark had proved himself fierce and while his history was sordid, Steve spoke highly of him. T'Challa was smart enough to know that there were evils in the world that he could not face alone, so ensuring his allies were appropriately armed and armored was critical.

In New York Tony flopped onto a plush couch, staring up at the ceiling. Everything was falling into place. Everything was moving forward. Thor and his people would be settled in Norway with Strange and Wong setting up their…whatever magic barrier thing. Magic was just science not yet understood and Tony was determined to figure it out, later, when he had some free time. Captain and his team should be pardoned come morning. Changing the Accords themselves would take longer but at the very least the public outcry and support for the wayward heroes was enough to make the key governments bow down a bit.

In the coming days his plan rolled out perfectly. Why wouldn't it? He was Tony Freakin' Stark and if he could design the tech and advanced systems he built almost overnight, he could certainly enact a simple plan that coordinated governments, business, superheroes and aliens.

Piece of cake.

The next several weeks passed with similar ease. Things were going well and naturally that had him concerned. He tried to wave it off as paranoia- but things didn't go this well, for this long, without something bad brewing. Naturally he thought it was Loki- Tony had been staying far away from the mischief maker but had multiple tabs being kept on him. Strange assured him Loki would be no threat and while Tony didn't sleep easier with that promise. Only the hilarious falling adventure Loki had, which he'd been unable to escape from, eased the tension.

While Thor had remained, for now, with his people (and subsequently Loki), the rest had returned to the states. The old gang back in the Tower and while there had been tension the first time Tony and Steve had occupied the same room together, the gift of Vibranium Steve brought back with him from Wakanda had placated the billionaire enough that they simply moved on. They'd handled their apologies in private, sort of, now it was time to put the past behind them.

Settling back in was remarkably easy and while Steve lost his superpowered running partner he still kept himself to his routine, running through the city and central park, then the city and the park again. It was only by chance or fate that he happened to be entering the Tower lobby at the same time a commotion was breaking out. A few of the security officers were clearly trying to prevent a scene that a…kid was creating?

"No stop! Stop! I need to talk to Iron Man! It's important!" The boy was larger, wearing a backpack and waving his hands at any of the guards who tried to get a hold of him- he was surprisingly successful at evading them. Steve had learned long ago to never underestimate anyone but his gut told him this kid wasn't a threat, at the very least shouldn't be causing this big of a scene without some sort of reasoning.

"Son." He gave, voice commanding respect and causing all parties involved to freeze temporarily. "What seems to be the problem?"

Ned stared, wide eyed and in shock. His gaze drifted up, and up, and up because- oh my god -Captain America was in front of him! Subconsciously Ned stood a little straighter, missing one of the security guards apologizing to the super soldier for the scene. Steve raised his hand to wave off the guards, clearly this kid was as far from a threat as could be had. The lack of answer to his question had him starting down a different path. "Alright, let's start with your name?"

"Uh..Ned. Ned Leeds, sir- Captain Sir. Sir Captain America-" His hand was up again to stop the rambling before the blond motioned to himself.

"Steve." Steve was just fine. "Alright Ned, obviously you have a really important reason for being here, can you tell me what that is?" He honestly wasn't sure, but he knew that whatever Ned was here for, the boy clearly thought it was important so Steve would treat it as such, doing anything else might have Ned creating another scene.

"Yeah…" Ned seemed to think about it, "Yeah I am. I…I need to talk to Mr. Stark. I think my friend is in trouble." Ned glanced around, there were too many witnesses, right? He had to keep it a secret and so he didn't elaborate.

Steve seemed to notice, "Alright…why don't you come with me?" He gave, motioning for the other to join him and when they stepped in the elevator he didn't take him up but instead ordered, "Friday, sub level three and can you let Tony know to meet us there?"

Ned swallowed hard, sub level? The pleasant AI gave a quick, "Of course Mr. Rogers." Steve had a hand on his shoulder and the teen wondered just how he'd gotten himself into this mess. The Avengers were heroes right? They wouldn't like…like silence him for knowing their secrets right? Not that he knew much, nothing really, He didn't! He knew no secrets about anything at all!

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, this floor had their regular training rooms, sublevel seven designed for containing their true powers and abilities while giving them room to train, here there were weight rooms, an olympic pool an entire underground base. They weren't going that far in, instead with a hand on Ned's shoulder Steve stepped them both out into the hallway that would take them to any of the various areas available.

"Alright son, what sort of trouble is your friend in?" Steve doubted it was something that required the Avengers to step in but the kid had conviction, so he was sure there was something going on. Maybe they could put him in touch with the local authority to handle it.

"Uh…Well…oh my god…See, I uh…" The elevator dinged again, it had been less than 30 seconds but Stark wasted no time.

"What are we doing now Rogers, field trips?" He gave at the sight of the teen.

"Mr. Stark!" Ned's attention turned, the older men tensed, still not sure what they were dealing with but something sparked in the back of Tony's mind.

"You…I know you." Where had he heard his voice? Fingers snapped, "Ted. You're Ted, Peter's friend."

"It's Ned." And "Who's Peter?" Were given at the same time.

Tony made a gesture to Steve, as if to say he'd explain later. "Alright kid what's going on?"

"Pete's in trouble! I- I know you don't care but you gotta do-"

Tony frowned, Steve noticed the change, instantly Iron Man was present, all jokes aside. "What do you mean? Where's Pete?" He didn't much wait for the rambling teen, "Friday, ping the suit." If Peter was in trouble it had to be as Spiderman. Why hadn't his protocols gone off? Ned seemed close to hyperventilating in their presence and Steve was trying to walk him through breathing exercises.

"The suit is currently on level 5 Boss." Friday answered.

Confusion continued. "Pete's here?"

"No Boss, the suit appears to be in the mailroom, scans show no signs of Mr. Parker on the property." None of this made sense and Tony turned his attention to the teen, forgoing a comment about how their mail system clearly lacked the necessary security needed to realize a multi-million dollar suit had been shipped to them.

"Where is he?!" Was turned on Ned, he needed usable information and this kid's floundering wasn't helping. Steve might have given him a disapproving look, but Tony didn't really care.

"He- He's upstate. They took him after May died." Tony felt cold. He didn't even hear the elevator ding open again, Nat stepping out to see what all the commotion was about. News of what happened in the lobby had reached the rest of the team.

The nanotech in his chest hummed, ready to form his suit in an instant but Steve's bark, "Tony." Cut through, for only a second. His voice was a warning, not to blast off, and a question all in one.

As much as Tony wanted to instantly charge ahead, he knew he needed more. He wanted to fly off, but he needed to know where he was going first. "Friday, elevator." It dinged open for him as Steve and Nat traded looks. The super soldier moved after Stark while the spy remained with a stammering Ned.

Steve didn't try to get more information as Tony continued, "Friday. Give me info. May Parker." He needed to confirm.

"Died, March 30th of this year." 73 days ago. Fuck.

"Why the hell…" It didn't matter right now, "Call Peter."

"Sorry Boss, his number is not in service."

"Fuck. **Find him**." Was almost growled as they stepped out of the elevator onto one of the high-rise floors, this one with direct access to the landing pad.

"What's going on?" Bruce wondered, Tony looked…haunted and Bruce turned his concerned question to Steve.

Steve was just as lost, "Tony. How can we help?" That was the most important thing in that moment. Details could come later.

"You can't. Okay? You can't. I fucked up and I gotta find him. FRIDAY!" The AI wasn't working quick enough.

"Still searching Boss."

"I designed you to hack the most secure systems in the world, how can you not locate one kid?!"

A kid, a suit, another teen who obviously wasn't coming from a long distance away to get here. "Spiderman." The dots connected.

The Quin Jet landed outside, Lang and Barton flying in from staying with their families. Tony ignored it in as Friday offered, "Peter Parker located Boss, he's listed as residing in a group home located in Colton, New York." The nano-tech hummed again, even beginning to form around him before Steve blocked his path to the landing pad.

"Out of the way Rogers." Scott had no idea what he was walking into but he hoped to God it wasn't another battle.

"Think about this Tony. You fly up there and what? You going to fly him all the way back home?" There were still a million questions that needed answering but Steve hoped Tony would see the logic long enough for him to get answers.

"I'll think of something." He would, he always did.

"Let's take the Quinjet. You can bring him home that way." Because clearly Tony intended on bringing the kid back, his last comment had proved that. Tony considered, weighing all the options before the half formed suit retreated back into it's housing He barked for Friday to send the coordinates over and they grabbed Clint before he could make his way inside.

Barton sat himself back down in the pilot's chair and in a moment they were off with Tony demanding they go as fast as the jet could take them. Tony paced. Steve knew they were on a razor edge of the other doing something very, very foolish.

"Tony, walk me through it." What happened.

"It's the kid. Shit. _Shit_."

"The kid from Queens?"

"Yes the kid from Queens." Was snapped, "Do you think I just run around with all sorts of teenage superheroes?!" Steve held up his hands in surrender, not here to fight. "I brought him back after…after you know." After Germany. "Gave him the suit, he screwed up so I took the suit. That was my screw up because, apparently, he got himself into worse trouble trying to be the hero. So I gave it back. He agreed to stick to the little stuff. I haven't- There hasn't been…I have hundreds of alerts." Hands ran through is hair, "How did I not know. Why didn't he-" Horrified. That was the only way to describe the way Tony Stark looked.

"Friday. Play the message Happy got." He felt cold, dread settling deep within him as Peter's voice filled the space. It replayed what Tony recalled hearing, having heard before he fell through a magic portal, he felt sick when the rest continued.

"I uh…I really need some help. See…May-" Oh god. The kid sounded so broken "May's gone…" There were stuttered breaths as the teen struggled to try and form the words. "And I'm somewhere...I…I don't know. They say I can't…I need to…Mr-Mr. Stark I don't know what to do. Please…please call me back I- I have the suit and I…I don't know what's gunna-gunna happen, please…May's gone. I don't wanna be alone. I do-"

"Message ended Boss." Deftly, Tony heard Steve calling his name but he couldn't process it. They'd fought battles with millions of lives in the balance, won and lost more times than he could count, but nothing since his capture and torture in the desert had ever rocked his foundation so completely. The kid needed him and he wasn't there. He'd been all alone- Tony knew what that felt like and knew that he'd subjected the teen to more than two months of it thinking…thing what? That Tony Stark didn't care.

He slumped into one of the seats. It could have been seconds, or minutes later, he didn't know, before Steve's voice finally broke through. "What's the game plan Tony?"

"I'm bringing him home." Steve could hear the resolve, he'd have to work with that, use it to get Tony to think this through.

"Alright, That's the goal. How do we make that happen?" Tony's look said it all, he was just going to take the teen, consequences be damned. Steve had to work hard to get through to him. "You go and take this kid and you and I both know Ross will be at your door tomorrow. Now look, I know you don't care but just think, what hell is that going to put this kid through? Do you really want it to be like that for him?" Play to Stark's sympathies. Steve didn't fully understand how Tony cared so clearly but he could see it and so he could leverage it.

It was enough, it broke through. He needed to plan. "Friday. Lawyers. Now." It would take less than ten minutes and several 'I don't care's from Tony but in the end they were working on the paperwork. Stark had given them a time limit after asking Clint how long it would be before they touched down. 47 minutes at that point. Tony didn't care what trouble it would cause, what the process or red tape was, he certainly didn't care what the dollar amount needed to grease the right palms to push the paperwork through would be.

The second that was done he had Friday find the number for the house, anyone's number. Any phone would work, as long as someone picked up and he could talk to the kid, let him know he was a failure, but he was on the way.

* * *

 **So there you have it.**

 **As mentioned above some of this doesn't make sense just yet but that was intentional. I wanted to try and give the reader some of the confusion Tony is feeling in this chapter, with everything not adding up.**

 **Let me know how I did and weather or not Tony's guilt is as enticing as Peter's struggle.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow!**

 **Just wow! Thank you all for the overwhelming support. We hit 100 reviews! There are still going to be a lot of gaps to fill in with what's happened to Peter so just hang in there and like Tony, you'll eventually get the truth.**

* * *

He hurt. His knee, his side, both arms felt like fire. His head was spinning and Peter honestly had no idea how he'd ended up in this position but he did feel the impact of something hitting him in the gut and he curled instinctively while trying to gasp for air that had been forced from his lungs.

He heard voices, shouting and shuffling near him. Eyes opened to see the blurry image of legs around him, that's right, he was on the ground. He tasted copper, right. He'd been punched, hard. Why was it so hard to breathe? It felt like he was sucking in glass with each breath.

It was impossible for Peter to make out what was being said. He didn't pick up on the jeering and shouts as the other teens egged Greg on, the older teen drawing his leg back for another kick as John made it to the group, trying to haul the older boy back, "Enough! That's enough!" Peter didn't hear the sounds of jet engines as Clint Barton literally thread the needle with parking the Quinjet in the middle of the suburban road. Didn't hear the gasps or exclamations as everyone watched dumbfounded as the iconic figure of Tony Stark came running off, nano tech glowing in his chest with none other than Captain America moving after him.

"Pete!" The billionaire's gaze zeroed in on the downed teen who was struggling to get himself up off the ground.

"Mr…Mr Stark?" His voice was rough and broken. Emotional dam breaking as his resolve crumbled.

As Tony skidded over to his side the group instinctively backed away, murmurs still running through the gaggle of teens as Steve stopped just short, trying to take in as much as he could see. "Kid? Hey Kid…Stay with me." His voice was soft, so soft when Steve could easily see the rage within the other. Steve hadn't expected this, foster care was no picnic but the boy looked terrible. Thinner than Steve remembered, clearly on the losing end of a fight he should have been able to easily win, his arms and hands were also blotchy red while his face was ashen, stained with flecks of blood from the presumed fight they'd stumbled upon.

"I…" He coughed, hard. "I sent it back…" Tears were free failing, he couldn't help it, he was weak, too weak for Tony to really be here.

"I know…I know kiddo just stop okay? Okay just…you gotta calm down Pete. Steve…Steve help me." Tony was decently strong and Peter seemed like he wouldn't be that hard to carry but Tony was all about using his resources and having the super soldier carry Peter would be a far easier and smoother transition. Steve didn't need to be told twice, kneeling to scoop up the teen as gently as he could, still flinching when Peter cried out in protest. Standing he wasted little time heading back towards the Quinjet with Tony on his heels.

Some might think John would stand up, say that they weren't authorized to take the teen. Those people lived in a fantasy world. While John would surely report this to the appropriate authorities there was no way in hell any regular person had the sheer balls it would take to tell Iron man and Captain America they couldn't do something.

The only parting comment was from Toby, "Holy Shit…Tony Stark _did_ come get him…"

The moment Tony walked on he ordered Barton into the sky. "Tony." Steve gave, still cradling the teen against his chest, "I don't think he's breathing." There was shock on the other's face but Tony pushed through and moved to pull a white box with a red cross out of one of the storage containers. It was luggage sized and when he activated it, it unfolded into a container of sorts.

"Get him in." Steve shifted instantly to set the teen down, he'd never seen the box but clearly Tony had thought about medical needs they had on missions and invented something to help. The second Pete was laid within and his hands were out of the way the transparent cover slid shut. "Friday." He ordered, not needing to say more.

"Diagnostics running." A heartbeat or two later and the AI announced, "Mr. Parker is experiencing an acute allergic reaction. Administering epinephrine now to counteract anaphylactic shock." There was a hiss from the box as it did what Friday indicated, and a little display of vitals showed both men a readout as his breathing became somewhat more steady.

"Guys. I got you a line open to Bruce." Clint shouted from the cockpit. He didn't know what all was happening but only a quick glance had showed him the kid was in rough shape. All the archer could do was push the engines to their breaking point to decrease the travel time.

Tony's eyes were glued to Peter's form, as if he'd blink and the kid would be gone. "How did they let this happen? How did _I_ let this happen?"

"Tony? What's going on. Friday sent orders to ready a medical team and I've got vitals. Who got hurt?" And clearly, how did they get hurt. Nat had explained they were going after Spiderman, a kid, but the information they had from Ned didn't point to the level of injury and damage he was seeing from Friday's scans.

"He shouldn't be this bad…" It didn't make sense to him.

Steve saw that Tony wasn't going to be giving a lot of useful information, so he spoke up. "Teenager, about fifteen…sixteen. Looks like he was in a fight with another teen right before we got there. Red rash on his hands and arms. Likely some hidden damage, he screamed when I moved him. Pale and thin."

"Definitely a fight. Friday's scans are showing two cracked ribs, right knee and arm also have some blunt force trauma…" It was odd, the damage seemed to be localized to his right side which was possible but seemed unlikely for a fight. "Rash coincides with an acute allergic attack- whatever it was he must have just been exposed." The 'he's lucky you got there when you did' rested in the air.

"Bruce be ready. He's enhanced but…I'm not sure the extent. He's got strength for sure. Tony. Tony what do you know?"

Tony blinked, he'd zoned out of the conversation and Steve had to repeat before he could answer, "Kid got bit, by a radioactive spider. Speed, strength, healing…your typical super soldier powers." Not to mention a few more specific to Peter but they weren't important at the moment, "He shouldn't be this bad." Why wasn't he healing? He'd been healed from Germany's bumps and bruises before he'd returned home.

"Ned said Peter told him he lost his powers." Nat cut into the line, that seemed to make sense. Tony had so many questions that needed answering but the only one that mattered was whether or not the kid would be okay. "I got a call out to Strange." She'd met the man in Norway where they'd all worked to set up the new home for Asgardian refugees. The rest of the ride was spent with Tony sitting next to the medical unit, staring at the steady but weak vital signs and wishing Peter would just open his eyes.

When they arrived Bruce and Strange were waiting with a team. Strange had made sure to mention that he was a neurosurgeon, not a GP but that didn't stop him from assisting. The medical unit was loaded up- safer to move Pete inside while he was still in it, given it was designed to handle just about any life threatening situation and keep whoever was inside stable for as long as possible.

Wilson had stayed out of the way but like the others, had seen the teen as he was carted by. "Shit dude…" The kid didn't look good at all, this was the same kid that had given him and Barnes a run for their money? Tony parked himself outside of the room they'd taken Peter to, Steve staying with him just to be a voice of reason. He knew Tony well enough to know there was a possibility the other would do something stupid. Something really, really, stupid.

Nat made her way over as well, sharing a look with Steve but saying nothing until Tony piped up, "Where's the kid? The other kid?"

"Happy took him home, his parents weren't aware he'd crossed the city to get here. I figured it would be best to have him out of the way." Even if they were friends there was nothing Ned could do for Peter now. Tony glanced over and his look asked the important question, Nat was a master interrogator even if her particular skillset wasn't exactly put to use with Ned- she still got every detail possible. "He let me know that May Parker passed away, struck by a motorcycle. I pulled the records, neck snap, it was instant." Tony flinched as she continued, "Peter was sent to temporary housing until after the funeral when he was moved to a group home upstate. Ned hadn't spoken with Pete recently, but Peter had been feeling bad when they last talked and sent Ned a cryptic email that he believes indicated Peter had lost his, and I quote, 'his you know what' abilities." She paused for a beat before making sure Tony knew, "I already filled Bruce and Stephen in, they know they're dealing with a super." Which was a risk in and of itself, no two were the same and what worked on a regular person may or may not even work on an enhanced individual.

Tony shook his head, still grasping at the concept of how it had come to this. "I should have been there. I should have known…I had…I had everything in place. His AI should have…Everything was programmed to let me know if something happened. If he was in the news, if he got hurt, if he was taking on someone or something out of his league…" He paced, scrubbing at his face as he tried to fathom how he could not have known. He hadn't planned for this, for the null. He missed it. He assumed, logically, that if Peter got in trouble he would be in the suit, or because of the suit. Because of being Spiderman. Peter Parker had been the one in distress and none of his protocols planned for that.

Guilt morphed quickly to anger. "Friday. Get me everything you know about that house. Who runs it, who was in it. Everything."

"On it boss." Steve knew that wouldn't end well but Tony wasn't in the state of mind to listen to him at the moment so he stayed silent, sharing a look with Nat. If it came down to it, they'd need to subdue the other. Justified or not, Tony leveling a group home wasn't going to work well in their favor. For the rest of the hour Tony paced, restless, while Steve kept watch and Nat filtered in and out, bringing coffee at one point.

Tony's attention snapped to the door a second before it opened and the two doctors stepped out. "He's stable, but very weak." Strange started, the doctor in him coming out. "We're working with a lot of unknowns and that makes this all extremely risky."

"How about we start with how anyone could let him get this bad?" The anger remained in Tony's voice.

"He probably wasn't." Strange replied evenly, emotionally detached from the situation, he had to be given his previous line of work. "The allergic reaction was likely a catalyst that exacerbated everything else."

Bruce offered a helpful translation. "He was probably doing better, maybe looked sick but nothing hospital worthy. He had bugs in his system, but everything was still running until this last wrench was tossed in, basically a cascading system failure."

Banner paused, letting it sink in before continuing. "What we do know are puzzle pieces. He suffered an acute allergic reaction. We're talking airborne peanut allergy level. Whatever it was he was likely exposed to it minutes before you arrived, it hit him hard and fast. He has blunt force trauma along the right side of his body which doesn't match what we'd usually see in a fight so I'm guessing he took some sort of fall or hit and the fight may have just aggravated it."

Strange nodded, watching as Tony stood there, silent, not a comment or a retort. He'd never see the other like this, granted they hadn't known each other long but the snarky bastard he'd come to know was nowhere in sight. "The biggest issue is the toxic build up in his body at a cellular level." Tony's expressed wanted to question, but he still remained silent. "We're dealing with not knowing how his mutation handles things, so any of this could be right or wrong. With a normal human I'd have to say that he's been exposed to something that…" Strange considered, grasping for the best way to explain, "Something that isn't deadly in low doses, the body can filter it out, but prolonged exposure can cause a build up, liver and kidneys unable to filter out the toxin as quickly as it's being introduced. Right now, that's our focus. I'd like to start him on dialysis to see if we can give his organs some rest- there's the potential his liver or kidneys could go into shock and shut down but as they are, they're too damaged to continue filtering out the toxin on their own."

Damned if they did and damned if they didn't.

Strange paused for a moment. This was why he never bothered with bedside manner, it was difficult to see the haunted looks on the faces of loved ones. "Dialysis could give him a fighting chance but…his body is extremely weak. There is the possibility that he can't tolerate it and we could be dealing with septic shock."

"And if we do nothing?" Tony questioned, speaking up with an even voice.

Strange shook his head as Bruce answered, "Tony…it doesn't look good."

The billionaire sucked in a breath of air. "Do it. Do it. Do anything that's going to give him better odds. If I need to synthesize organs overnight I will. Losing him is not an option." And his voice was final on that. Tony would go to heaven and back to save the kid- because if Pete died he was definitely going upstairs, not down. And screw whatever deity existed Tony was not going to give the kid up, he'd faced down gods before and won.

"Nat." He snapped, gaze shifting over to her, "I want you to take a team and I want you to rip that place apart brick by brick. I want to know everything. _Everything_." What had hurt Peter and how could he protect him in the future.

Steve didn't bother mentioning Wakanda, while they might be able to offer additional medical support, the Avengers had their own medical tricks up their sleeve and besides, he wasn't sure Pete would survive the prolonged trip, or even a short trip through Strange's portal. "Take Lang." He instructed, knowing she'd take a forensic team as well, whatever was needed to scrub the house and figure out what had happened. Natasha nodded, patting Tony's shoulder as she passed by before heading out to complete her mission. It was already getting late and while she knew Tony wanted it done now, nothing would be gained by ambushing the house at night. Instead she'd schedule a team to leave predawn knowing Tony would be far too distracted with the kid to realize when they started said mission. "Can we see him?" Steve wondered, of course by 'we' he really meant Tony and the second Bruce nodded the billionaire was moving into the room.

Fingers curled and his stomach sank at the sight of the kid, laying there, so fragile, so…so small in the medical bed. His clothing was gone, apparently replaced by medical scrubs and covered by thick white sheets for warmth. His arms were out, resting above the fabric and the red rash seemed to have faded away leaving him pale all over. He stood at the bedside, hand gripping the railing impossibly tight. Steve and Bruce watched, the two of them knowing how precarious a situation it was. Tony made foolish decisions when his emotions got the better of him. "Tony-" Steve started.

"I should have been there, none of this would have happened if I would have been there." This was his fault.

"Tony if you were never in his life his Aunt still would have died and he still would have been shipped up state, only in that case there really wouldn't be anyone to come get him. Nothing changes that. You weren't there for him, you're right, but you're here now. If you keep letting this guilt eat at you then you're never going to be the support he needs. You can't change what happened but you need to decide what's _going_ to happen from here on out."

Steve was right, and his words struck home. Tony would be there for the kid even if it killed him. He'd been so stupid, thinking the best thing was to be hands off. Kid wanted to keep his identity a secret, so they couldn't really be seen together when Iron Man and Spiderman had already been spotted together on more than one occasion. He'd set up protocols to let him know if Spiderman was in danger but he'd never assumed something like this would happen to the nerdy kid behind the mask.

"Should he be waking up?" Tony wondered, watching Peter's features closely as if looking for any sign the kid was improving.

"No." Strange answered as he moved around the bed to begin attaching the necessary equipment. Normal dialysis required ports into an artery but only the best was used here, advanced technology that required only a bandaid like object to be placed on Peter's chest, near the nape of his neck. Nanotech would hone in on the artery and painlessly attach to it, from there Strange could hook up the machine lines where blood would be diverted to and from after the toxins were removed. "Dialysis can be an uncomfortable process and his body needs all the rest he can get, we administered a mild sedative to help him sleep through it." The Doctor spoke without looking at Tony, instead focusing on his patient, making sure his blood pressure didn't drop. Bruce did much of the same, the two working in tandem. Both kept their eyes on Peter's vitals and both noticed the shift. "Pressors." Was all Strange needed to say.

"On it." Bruce answered, already with a bottle in hand, measuring out the dosage before injecting it into one of the IV lines after they notice his blood pressure dropping.

Tony could only watch, helpless. His mind, money and might could do nothing to help. If anyone caught Tony reaching out, wrapping fingers around the teen's pale hand with a gentle squeeze, they didn't comment.

* * *

 **So there we have it. Tony has Peter but he's not out of the woods yet.**

 **Drop me a line and let me know what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all for sticking with me! In the coming chapters we'll get some insight into what happened during most of month two at the group home, along with seeing if and how Pete recovers.**

 **Some of the Avengers characters are a bit out of my writing comfort zone so feedback is always appreciated!**

 **Onward.**

* * *

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, John found his property host to, and he could only really assume, the Avengers. He didn't recognize the woman sitting across from him, nor the red suited guy who'd simply disappeared the moment he stepped into the house, but he was sure they were part of the same team.

Along with those two, an entire team of scientists had invaded the house and were apparently going over every inch of it. The woman simply smiled at him from across the table. She looked calm and collected and he was certain he did not.

"Do you know who I am?" She questioned calmly, a perfectly pleasant smile on her features. John merely shook his head. He could guess, but she wasn't as much of a public figure as some of the others. "Good. That's good. See, I'd be really bad at my job if you knew who I was. Now you however…" She lifted her Stark issued phone, "John Henly, 34- never married." Her eyebrows arched at that. "Never been in trouble, well except for that drunk and disorderly but hey, those were college years, right?" John seemed to visibly gulp. "You're credited with one of the most successful homes for older boys in foster care, so please explain to me. What. Happened. To. Peter."

At the same time, Lang was talking in her ear via their communicator, " _Oh God…It's like…Everywhere…So…so gross._ "

She ignored him, not showing a hint of distraction on her features as she stared the man down.

"Listen we didn't…We took care of him! I swear, look, I don't want any trouble okay? Okay?"

This wasn't helpful and she sighed, running a hand through her once again scarlet colored hair. "Let's start somewhere, shall we? When Tony Stark took Peter he was outside." John nodded, "What happened?"

"It was just…you know, boys fight. Peter'd had some trouble with a few of the older boys. We were doing yard work, Peter was helping spread the mulch. Greg said Peter started it- a few of the boys confirmed Peter threw the first punch but obviously Greg got the better of him. I was breaking it up when...when they…" When they dropped out of the sky and took the kid.

She made a mental note to make sure the crew took samples from the yard. "Okay, so they got into a fight, before that fight Peter got hurt, his right side. Did he get pushed or fall?"

John shook his head with a shrug, "I don't…I don't know anything about that, he was a little under the weather, but he never mentioned falling." She saw no lie from him, she was trained to get detailed information from the toughest of sources. John was not one of them.

" _Oh my god!_ " Came Lang's voice, " _I think…I think I'm stuck._ " He didn't sound too panicked though, so she wasn't off to his microscopic rescue.

"Okay, let's talk about that. You knew he was sick?" She questioned, her voice still calm and gentle.

"Yes...yes and we took him to the doctor, twice in fact." She was silent, letting him continue, "We see this sometimes, these kids they come to us in all sorts of shapes. Emotional stress, it can affect their immune systems. First time I took him in, doctor thought that was the case, off season flu. He seemed to get better for a little bit and then declined again so I took him back. Doctor wanted to draw blood- see if he could figure out what was going on, Peter refused. I tried to talk him into it, we just wanted to help, but he wouldn't have it." It made sense to her, Peter knew he was different and from what she'd learned, there hadn't been a lot of investigating exactly how his mutation worked or potentially showed up in blood panel. "His social worker was here too. At the end of each month, we were doing everything we could for him. I swear!"

Lang would eventually get himself unstuck by returning to his regular size, commenting on the oil that seemed to be everywhere, residue left behind from the cleaning products used throughout the house. Nat continued her questioning until the crew had samples of everything as well as all of Peter's personal belongings loaded up, confiscated laptop included.

Back at the Tower, Tony had barely left the room overnight. One or two bathroom breaks given the copious amounts of coffee he'd consumed was about all he took, plopping himself down in the chair and remaining. The longest conversation he had was with Friday when he'd ordered a room to be readied for the teen once he was well enough. Because he would be, he had to be. Bruce and Strange traded out throughout the night and thankfully, there were no surprises with Pete's health.

No one dared suggest Tony retire for the night and Steve himself supplied a few cups of coffee while Iron Man kept up his vigil. Come morning he stirred awake to the sounds of the two doctors having a bit of a confab. He drew in a breath trying to clear his senses as he sat up a bit straighter in the chair. "What?" he questioned, blinking the heavy sleep from his eyes.

"We were reviewing Mr. Parkers readings. We've had him on continuous dialysis overnight and he's responding surprisingly well." Strange actually did sound a little surprised. "We still don't know exactly how this will all play out," As far as his missing abilities or whether permanent damage to organs had taken place, "But I'm comfortable lifting sedation and seeing if we can get him to come around." Bruce nodded his agreement to that idea, which is what they'd been discussing before Tony woke.

Lifting sedation meant a change of IV bags and then waiting for the drugs in his system to wear off. "He's doing really good Tony, better than we hoped." Bruce offered, comforting words as Steve entered with a plate that would be shoved into Tony's hands, breakfast. Tony would set it down on the nearest hard surface much to Steve's displeasure.

After the Cap got the same update he nodded, "That's good. Good to hear. Nat's on her way back with the team, Lang seems to think he knows what's the issue." Steve wasn't sure if he bought it, "Peppermint oil. Says it's a natural insect repellent."

Bruce squinted in thought, blinking once, then again. "I suppose it's possible…but we're talking obnoxious amounts of exposure."

Steve shrugged, "Scott's pretty convinced, says residue is on everything, hard surfaces, clothing, you name it. Nothing noticeable to the naked eye but…" but to an Antman it was everywhere. "They're bringing back samples of everything just in case."

"Good." Strange commented, still focused on his work, "That wouldn't explain the allergic reaction, not if he'd been exposed to that all along." But it would, in theory, help them understand the toxins built up in Peter's body.

Tony was unusually quiet during the conversation, simply listening and watching. Refusing to miss the moment Peter would come around even though that would be hours yet. After adjusting the teen and ensuring vitals remained stable, Strange nodded to them. "I must return to the Sanctum." He explained simply, unable to leave it untended for too long. He and Wong the only two left to defend it. "Contact me if you need any additional assistance." And with that he would take his dramatic leave.

"Show off." Bruce would comment, looking over Peter's lines one more time, as the wizard disappeared through his portal. Every hour on the nose he'd check and recheck. It wasn't exactly necessary, but Bruce knew it would give Tony some peace of mind. This whole medical world was an area the billionaire was not an expert in and so he'd look to Banner for guidance. True, Bruce hadn't pursued medical as a primary but it was one of his many degrees, not exactly licensed to practice medicine but then again, no one was fully equipped to handle enhanced human medical needs.

Natasha, Scott and the rest of their team returned, samples immediately taken to the lab. Bruce wouldn't work with them now, he didn't want to risk cross contamination. Careful as he could be there was always the chance of bringing back some irritant that would upset Peter's progress. No one from the away team was allowed anywhere near the medical wing, Scott complaining loudly as he and his suit were greeted with a biohazard decontamination shower. That had so not been a part of the deal, but Tony Stark wasn't taking any chances- even if Scott had no intentions of going into medical wing.

By late afternoon consciousness began to return as Peter pulled himself from sleep, vitals shifting first and drawing the attention of both Tony and Bruce. The former was on his feet in an instant, moving back to the bedside while the latter continued to watch vitals, glancing between the teen and the screens on various monitors.

"Kid?" Tony wondered, voice a bit rough, Peter began to shift, and a careful hand moved out to rest on his shoulder, holding him still at the same time, "Easy…Easy kiddo, you're okay." Brown eyes opened, blinking into focus as his breathing quickened. Bruce kept an eye on O2 readings.

"Mr…Mr. Stark?" His voice was whispered and hoarse at the same time, trying to glance around and unable to muster up the strength to sit, not with Tony's hand keeping him down.

"Yeah Champ. That's right. It's me. You're okay, you're safe. We're gunna get you better, okay?" His tone was soft, a compassion Bruce knew Stark had but rarely showed and yet here it was shining through.

"Hi Pete." Bruce called from the foot of the bed, "I'm Doctor Banner." He waited until the boy's eyes shifted away from Tony and over to him, offering out a smile, "Can you feel that?" He put his hands against the teen's feet and watched him nod slightly, "Alright can you push for me?" Peter did, showing motor function. Rounding the bed, opposite Tony, he held out his hands, "Can you take my hands?" It took a little effort, but Peter did raise both his arms to take the Doctor's hands, his limbs felt like lead weights. "That's really good, give me a squeeze?" He requested, and Peter complied before Bruce let him set his hands down.

All the while Tony watched in silence, eyes focused entirely on Bruce and how he responded to each little test result. "Alright Peter, are you hungry?" Bruce wondered finally, and Peter took a moment to consider before nodding. "I'll go get you something." He offered, giving Tony a bit of a look before stepping out.

"Hey kiddo, how about we get you sitting up?" Tony offered, and when Peter tried to move he continued to keep a gentle arm on him, "No no, wonders of technology, let the bed do the work." He suggested with an attempted smile, simultaneously hitting the button that would allow the medical bed to sit Peter upright.

"Mr. Stark…" Peter began again and Tony cut him off with a quick 'ah ah'.

"Peter, listen to me. I know it's in your blessedly altruistic heart to want to apologize right now. I can hear it in your voice. And while it is such a redeeming quality to be so humble I need to know that you understand. Okay? I need you to know that you did nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. I can…I can only imagine what you think of me, and you know what? I deserve it." He closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly at the weight of the guilt. Cycling a breath of air before looking back to the teen, "So no apologies, not from you. Okay? Cause I gotta get a thousand of them out and I can't do that if you're trying to do the same." Peter had no chance to reply before Bruce returned, protein shake complete with straw sticking out in hand.

"I hope you don't mind chocolate." He offered with a smile, Peter didn't- in truth he wanted more, real food, but he'd take what he could get and a shake it was. Thankfully he was able to hold it himself even though it took some effort. By the time he was finished his eyelids were drooping shut, Tony taking the bottle from his hand before any remaining liquid could spill when his grip loosened.

The dark-haired man sighed when they laid Peter back down, Bruce taking his hourly blood sample to go test. "He's doing okay Tony. We got food in him, blood panel comes back better each time." Peter wasn't showing advanced healing at this point, but he was recovering at normal human pace and that was nothing to scoff at. For all they knew, Peter's loss of powers and illness could be unrelated, nothing in the books said superpowers had to last forever right? Radiation did have a half-life after all. Bruce hoped that wasn't the case, as much as powers could be a curse, losing them along with everything else this teen had endured might be worse. "I'll sit with him, why do you go get showered and changed. Grab something to eat too." Tony looked over and seemed hell bent on ignoring the suggestions, so Bruce pulled out the secret weapon the entire team would be able to use against him, "Can't take care of him if you're not taking care of yourself."

Tony glared for several seconds before sighing. "Fine. Half an hour. I'll be back." And he would be, even if the others tried to waylay him as much as possible. He wouldn't say he ran straight to his room to shower, but he did walk with a purpose, dressing down comfortably in a simple t-shirt and jeans when he was done cleaning up. When he emerged, Nat was there with a cup of coffee for him and he eyed her suspiciously. He had good reason to, she looped her arm around his and tugged him towards the common area for food, with the promise of information finally winning him over.

"So…" Tony grouched as he ate after hearing Nat's explanation of events. "You're saying they aren't to blame because they didn't realize _he was dying_?" No, sorry, the billionaire wasn't buying it.

She knew he desperately wanted a boogey man, someone to paint a target on, something tangible he could defeat. "I'm saying, they didn't intentionally hurt him. Well, except for Greg Johnson- and he'll be thinking twice before picking another fight with anyone." She smirked there, physically harming the teen was out of the question- it was just a schoolyard type fight after all, there was art in a good psychological scare and having seen Peter's state, it was well deserved- especially when she found out how it started. Some off-color comment about Peter's relatives killing themselves to get away from him, no wonder the kid started the fight when he was sick, such a comment would rile her feathers too.

"So. We're saying this is because he's allergic to Altoids? Seriously?" Tony had to question, shoveling his food in and slightly less than his normal dignified way.

"Peppermint oil. Little bit more direct and potent." She shrugged, "It's possible. It's not something toxic to a normal person, but he's not normal. If I substitute the oil with something we know to be more harmful…everything lines up." It wasn't expected, in their line of work things were using more...well deadly-deadly sounding at least. "How is he?" She wondered, watching the other as he finished off his meal.

"He woke up. Had a protein shake." He shook his head with a sigh. "He's tired. I don't even know if he really understands what's going on, he was still pretty out of it."

She listened, "But he woke up. You know that's good. You'll let me know if you need anything brought to you right?" She wondered, willing to be his assistant if only to make his vigil easier.

He fixed her with a somewhat suspicious look, "You're not going to try and stop me?" From staying as close to the teen as he could.

"You try to drown your guilt at the bar, I'll put you down faster than your nanotech can form." She made that point clear. "But if you want to sit with him…" She shrugged, who was she to stop him?

The rest of the day and night was spent with Tony lingering in Peter's room. The teen woke a few more times and each occasion Bruce had a shake ready for him. He still seemed lethargic and subdued and while Tony was worried, Bruce assured him it was to be expected.

Exhaustion got the better of him at some point and he drifted off. Well it was exhaustion or perhaps something slipped into his coffee by any number of possible suspects. Nat being at the top of the list. Either way. The following morning Peter was awake again, watching Tony sleep as Bruce moved about the room, checking over the IV bags and other machinery. Finally, Peter's gaze tore away from the sleeping billionaire. "He looks like crap."

Bruce had to chuckle softly and Peter's expression morphed-mortified at what he'd said. "Don't worry. You're right." Tony's iconic facial hair was starting to fill in from the scruff he hadn't bothered tending to in the last few days.

"You...you're Doctor…" Peter drew a blank.

"Banner. But you can call me Bruce." Recognition passed through Peter's eyes, but the teen said nothing, he didn't even look fearful-something Bruce had come to expect. "How are you feeling?"

Peter had to blink, considering, "Good...really good." A lot better than he had in a long time."...Hungry. Like...Like real food hungry." And Bruce found himself helpless to deny those puppy dog eyes. No wonder Tony acted the way he did.

"Well, let's see if we can't get some real food into you." Bruce offered, adjusting the machine to stop dialysis without bothering to mention what the machine was, no need to stress the kid out. His blood work had continued to improve, Bruce felt confident in unhooking the machine. He'd continue to closely monitor the recovering teen but for now he sent off a quick message for food to be brought, something bland but filling. "Pete, I don't want you stressed but I need you to know that Tony had to tell me who you were. It was important to ensure we were treating you in the best way possible." The teen tensed slightly but merely nodded. What was done was done and this was Bruce Banner after all, he had an alter ego of his own.

"Do...Do you know what happened?" He asked, uncertain. Bruce shrugged.

"I was gunna ask you." He chuckled softly. "We know some things. And honestly they seem a bit farfetched but given my experience in the 'you've got to be kidding me' category...It's possible." Peter merely blinked at him and he continued. "We think you were exposed to something that negatively impacted your specific mutation. There's a lot of testing we have to do to be sure, getting you better first is our current priority. It's possible that this...toxin," Because Bruce refused to say peppermint oil when talking about something potentially lethal. "Is the cause of your power loss." Peter didn't really seem to understand. "Think of it like this. A normal person gets exposed to something toxic, now the dose isn't much but if it builds up over time eventually they'll get sick right? Their system won't be able to fight forever and we'd see their health decline. Does that make sense?"

Peter nodded, it did and he was beginning to see the correlation.

"While ridiculously improbable it's possible that you were exposed to something that was toxic to your mutation."

But he was getting better, did that mean- "So... I could...you know...I might be…" Spiderman again.

Bruce sighed, "I don't want to get your hopes up, we really don't know, but this morning's scans showed some acceleration beyond what we would expect for a typical recovery, so that at least seems to be a good sign."

"What's a good sign?" Steve questioned as he entered, plate in hand. Peter blinked over, wide eyed and shifting.

"You-You're…" Peter glanced between Steve and Tony, worried. He didn't remember much, certainly not Steve being there or carrying him.

"Brooklyn." Steve answered with a gesture to himself before holding out the plate to entice the hungry teen, "And you're Queens." Without skipping a beat he added, "And we're all on the same side. Promise."

Pete wasn't certain and glanced to Bruce. Bruce hadn't been in the fight so he must be neutral, he nodded to confirm that everything was alright and only then did Peter relax.

When Tony woke next it was to the sounds of hushed laughter. Voices trying not to get too loud but failing. He felt groggy, unusually so- scrubbing a hand over his face he dragged himself from sleep before taking in the rest of the room. Peter was sitting up in bed, more color to his features than Tony remembered. Steve and Bruce were also perched on either side near Peter's legs with the bed tray between them and the sounds of cards being played. "What's going on?" He was still a little foggy, getting the sinking suspicion he had not been sleeping naturally.

"Tony, he terrible at poker." Steve was chuckling, the teen glancing up from the cards to the billionaire. Peter had been up before, Tony there to help him through the first few sessions, but he'd been groggy and quick to fall back to sleep after his shake. Now he was awake and alert and eyes locked with Starks before the teen instantly deflated.

"Alright. That's it. Out you heathens." he ordered the other two adults, he could see the thoughts running through Peter's head, could only imagine what he was thinking and he knew he had to stop it now, now before it got any worse. "Me and Pete need to talk."

* * *

 **There you have it! I hope my last chapter is made up by this one. Pete's awake and losing at poker. Spiderlings heal rather well when removed from a toxic environment.**

 **Of course physically healing means we need to work on emotionally healing next :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Well if there's one thing I've learned, ya'll really only love chapters where Peter gets hurt. Lol!**

 **If any of you think Peter is recovering a bit too quickly…well you didn't think getting him out of foster care was going to be the only plot arc did you? 😊 I've got a lot in store and hopefully I can keep everyone engaged with the story until the very end.**

 **Also the formatting got weird on this one, at least it looks weird to me. I'm sorry, I tried to fix it but short of rewriting the entire thing in a new file it wasn't working.**

* * *

Peter looked worlds better; that was a huge relief. "Pete, give me just a second." He knew they needed to have a talk, but he wanted an update from Bruce first, following the other two out.

Bruce was quick and to the point. Peter was off dialysis, he'd ate and better yet kept down a solid meal, blood work continued to look promising as were scans of the internal damage. All in all, he was headed in the right direction at a surprising but positive pace.

Heading back in he sighed as the door shut behind him and he took in the sight of the teen. He'd gone from happy to so broken in a matter of seconds. Tony ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts before moving to sit where Steve had previously. "Kid...what have I told you?" he wondered, picking up the cards, "You're a horrible liar. Poker is not your game. Stick to blackjack, but never count cards in a casino." Cards stacked he set them aside, they could no longer be a distraction. Peter was silent, eyes a bit downcast.

He sighed, "Shit this is gunna suck." He said mostly to himself. "Alright." He made a motion with his hand, "Hit me with it."

Peter only stared silently, the teen not even really staring at him but looking slightly downward toward towards the tabletop between them.

"No? Nothing?" Tony wondered, tilting his head to try and regain eye contact. "Okay. How about I start, and you pipe up if I get anything wrong?" Peter didn't disagree, so he continued. "Alright, so. So, you get pulled out of school. Taken to a stranger's house." Because Aunt May had died. Tony left out that depressing detail. "You called, you did. You called Happy- Pete...is there any reason you didn't use the emergency line? Did it not work?" There wasn't accusation in his tone, Peter was in no way at fault, but Tony had to know why the teen didn't call him directly- or if he had, why it didn't work.

Peter shifted, glancing up for a moment then away again. "It... It wasn't an emergency." He hadn't been in imminent danger.

Tony stared, a hand went over his mouth for a moment as if to block an outburst, rubbing at his scruff. Collecting himself he spoke very calmly. "Pete. Your Aunt had _just passed away_. This was- in every way- an emergency." He was horrified to think the teen didn't feel his situation warranted use of the emergency line.

Pete drew limbs up around himself, knees to his chest, arms wrapping around, "I _called…_ " His voice broke and he hid his face. He called, Tony hadn't come for him, he assumed the worst. It was what Tony figured, but he needed the kid to admit it- even if he didn't want to hear it. The rolling bed tray was pushed out of the way as he shifted. Peter trying to hide his breakdown.

"I know...I know you did kid. And I fucked up." He didn't bother watching his language around the teen- he'd made far worse mistakes recently. "And if you want me to leave, or you wanna yell at me, or anything...Pete. I deserve it." There were extremely few things in his life that Tony felt guilt over, but he always went to great lengths to try and make up for them, whatever they were. Just how he could make this right with the teen he had no idea.

The teen didn't react- or at least he didn't do any of those things and Tony was really at a loss. He wanted to explain, not to give himself excuses to use but to just try and make sure the teen understood. Tony didn't know he was in trouble and came the second he did.

"Pete...do you want me to leave?" He questioned, he was the cause of this, all of this. He wouldn't stay to satisfy his guilt if it wasn't what Peter wanted. Despite curling in on himself Peter shook his head, that was all Tony needed before leaning in and pulling the teen against him. "Easy...easy" He'd never really had to do this, he certainly hadn't been on the receiving of it. His father wasn't the touchy feely sort and Tony didn't much consider himself to be either. He just did what seemed right, not really sure if it was working given how the teen broke down, but at least Peter wasn't pulling away- that was good right?

It wasn't perfect, and there was so much still left to say, but for the first time since May died, Peter didn't feel alone.

Bruce gave the pair as much time as he could, monitoring Peter's vitals remotely. They spiked and fluctuated but that was to be expected, he was sure the pair had some serious talking to do as Tony was the only one among them who really knew the kid and what he'd gone through.

In the end, before he had a chance to check in on them he found a nurse bringing up a tray of food along with an entire package of cookies. At his look of confusion she simply commented, "Mr. Stark placed a remote order."

Damn it Tony. "Thank you, I'll take it." She nodded and handed over the items which Bruce, in turn, carried in. Peter was still sitting up, eyes a bit puffy but otherwise appearing well. He'd scooted over to one side of the bed and Tony was stretched out alongside him, Peter carefully tucked under the blankets while Tony laid on top. The pair seemed to be watching the room tv so even though it was clear both of them still had emotions to deal with, at least they were on semi stable ground.

Honestly Peter wasn't sure what to make of Tony at the moment, not of his earlier contact or how he'd continued to remain close even after Peter had gathered himself back up again. It was simple really. Peter had cried. Tony said he screwed up, eventually- like men, they both got control of themselves. Tony asked Peter if he wanted to punch him, Peter declined. Tony had asked if Peter was hungry and well, yeah, he was. Like really hungry, so here they were.

"Cookies Tony? Really?" Bruce berated, setting the tray down but snatching the cookies away before Tony could grab them, ignoring the sour look on his friend's face.

"What? The kid deserves some cookies" Peter for his part, didn't know if he should look angry, mortified or something else entirely. "Come on Pete, eat up. I bet if you do, Brucey Bear will give you five cookies."

"One cookie." Was snapped back instantly as Bruce made his rounds, checking everything.

"Four."

"Two."

"Three."

" _Two_." The banter had Peter smiling a bit and Bruce realized that was the whole point of it. Sneaky Tony, very sneaky.

Tony sighed dramatically, "Well there you have it kid. Two cookies." He offered with a 'what can you do' sort of gesture.

Peter offered a small smile at the antics, thanking Bruce for the food that was set in front of him.

"Well Bruce?" Tony called, "I'm not on restrictions." He motioned for the other to hand over the Chips Ahoy container.

"I'm serious Tony, two is pushing it. Peter. I know you're smarter than him, okay? Remember, you're the one who'll be sick later if you don't take it easy." Sobering words as Bruce relented and handed over the snack. "We don't want to shock your system with a ton of sugar."

"Sourpuss." Was Tony's flippant response as he tore into the packaging, sticking one cookie between his teeth before offering the container to Peter who simply shook his head, content with his rice for now. Tony rolled his eyes dramatically and made a show of eating another cookie just for the hell of it.

Tony allowed Peter to finish his meal without interruption before, "Alright kid. Question time. I got'em. Bruce has'em. I know you must." He tapped his fingers quickly on the tray. "Let's hear'em."

Peter blinked, glancing between the two. Him? First? "Me?"

Tony nodded with a 'go on' gesture, "Yeah, we'll go around the room, round robin style. So go, shoot." Ask away.

"Are uh...are all the Avengers staying here? Like a team again?" Peter wondered. Cap and Bruce had said as much but he wanted confirmation. Even if he and Tony still had a long way to go to rebuild what had been damaged between them, Peter still looked to him for guidance.

"Okay, see that was two questions, but I'll let it slide." Bruce rolled his eyes. "Most of them are, off and on. And yeah kid. Same side. Bruce." He punted the conversation to the other.

"I'd like to know what impacted the right side of your body."

"Oh...uh, the ground." Pete offered, both adults gave him a look that made it clear he better continue. "I uh...see I stored the suit on the roof, 'cause that was safe and all, but then I found out that there was gunna be roof work done, so I had to get it before they started work only...only I couldn't wall climb-" Bruce tilted his head but Tony waved him off wanting to hear the rest. "So I… I just had to do it the old-fashioned way and I kinda...slipped...coming back down?" Tony was giving him a look that said he was somewhere between extremely worried and completely pissed off.

"You fell off…" He shook his head, no he needed a better question. "Okay, the suit. You mailed it back?" His tone requested Peter elaborate and the teen squirmed a little.

"Well...Yeah. See, I tried to give it to Ned originally, but he said I might need it so I kept it but I had to keep it hidden and they were going through my stuff and like after the first few days my Spidey sense was gone and then other stuff too so...So I thought the roof was safe but then the guys were working on it so I brought it down but Toby almost found it so I knew I had to get rid of it but Mr. Stark it seemed like a bad idea to just toss so I sorta...took some money and I mailed it to you."

"I'm sorry… you 'took' money?"

Peter looked meek but managed a, "Mr. Stark...you said only one question…" Bruce actually laughed at the dumbfounded look onthe billionaire's face.

Peter looked unsure of himself, they weren't yet on solid ground but when Tony surrendered with an annoyed, "Touché." The teen smiled.

"When can I get out of here?" Was Peter's next question, realizing that could sound ungrateful he immediately floundered, "I mean, not that I don't appreciate everything Doctor Banner. I really do. Honestly I feel so much better."

"Actually, I was gunna suggest tomorrow if you keep doing well. I'd like you to wear a medical band for a little bit longer but no need to stay in the medical wing." Bruce answered before, "Okay what exactly is a…" And he was using a highly technical term here. "Spidey sense?"

Peter looked embarrassed for a moment, cheeks even flushing, it seemed silly to hear someone else say it out loud. He didn't have time to flounder though as that very same sense fired off and he ducked his head away just before Tony tried to flick his ear. "Onmi-directional early warning alert system. Completely organic." Tony offered, spouting it off as if bored before smirking as he knew Bruce would be extremely interested in it. "And clearly, it's working again."

Peter blinked, Tony was right, his Spidey sense had worked just then.

Tony could see the gears turning in the teen's head, knowing that at least one power was returning, patting his blanket covered knee Tony rolled off the side of the bed, "Alright kiddo. I think that's enough for one sitting." He sniffed, tongue clicking against his teeth. "Me and Brucey need to talk about a few things. You good?" Peter nodded, maybe a little too quickly. With that Tony took the lead out of the room. Bruce had no issues following the other out.

"You two seem to be getting along well." He started but Tony simply kept walking, all the way down the hall. Bruce, dutifully, followed in confusion.

"If his Spidey sense is back his others might be too." Tony pointed at the side of his head, "Advanced hearing." The brunette added it to the mental list of other traits and abilities his patient had. Tony wanted to be out of superhuman earshot just in case.

"Fifteen and all that?" Tony's look said yes, and even more, "Geez and he didn't go rip off a Best Buy first?"

Tony smirked, "Naw. Kid's got a good heart." He seemed oddly proud about that. "Too good."

Bruce could read between the lines, "He forgave you?" He ventured and Tony sighed.

"Yes? No? I don't know...We didn't talk all that much about it."

"But he doesn't hate you." That much was clear. Tony shook his head, no, Peter was too good for him, really. "If you want my advice-"

"I don't. Just so we're clear." Tony cut in quickly, Bruce fixed him with a flat look, daring him to continue. Tony decided to absently pick at his nails.

"Let him go at his pace. Clearly he's glad to be here. Maybe his abandonment issues catch up with him, maybe they don't, but if he's ready to just pick up and move on…" He shrugged, "Don't hold him back. Trust me. I know a thing or two about pent up emotions." Tony snorted at that, "I'm gunna go talk to Lang, I've been having some of the lab techs to the basic testing on the samples and want to get some more input on his ideas he was right about the oils. I think it would be a good idea for you to start thinking more long term."

Tony gave him a look, "About what?"

Bruce sighed, "About the kid, Tony. We're getting him back on his feet but what's the plan. Hell, am I guilty of kidnapping? Is CPS going to come knocking on the door? Where's he gunna stay? Kid seems bright, he's gunna be worried about all that and more."

Stark had to agree, "Ignorance is bliss. And I'm not so trust me. It's all worked out." And Peter Parker was in no way ignorant either. It was something to chew on but while others may think him impulsive- which he was, Tony was also a forward thinker. He had a plan in place and already pieces of it were being carried out. He just needed to see if Peter liked said plan, which was more talking about things and they hadn't managed so well the first time.

Bruce seemed satisfied that Tony was taking this seriously, "I'm off. I'd like to test some of those samples against his blood- I'll let you know if we have to keep him away from Christmas decorations." With that the pair began to head in separate directions.

"Remember! Nothing from that house of horrors gets near the kid! Nothing!" Tony shouted as he headed back to Peter's room. Entering, he had to shake his head. Just a few days prior the kid looked like death. Pure and simple. Now he was sprawled out, mostly on his stomach, face turned to the side and cheek pressed against his pillow with one arm somehow tossed over the guardrail of the hospital bed.

While Tony settled in, Bruce headed out in search of Scott who was with several others in the open common area.

Introductions to the team had been somewhat quick but they'd fallen into place easily enough. First with welcoming Asgard to Earth, then in the coordinated 'keep Tony from doing something stupid' operation that had lasted over the last few days. "Scott." Bruce called, flagging the other down. "I wanted to talk with you about your theories." Yet fully tested but it seemed like it was true that the oils in the house were the cause of the toxic build up, but Lang apparently had more to share, "Nat mentioned you think you know what he's allergic to?" It wasn't that Bruce didn't believe the other but Scott wasn't a doctor, nor a scientist.

"Yeah I was doing some checking and I think it was the mulch. Stuff was cedar and that's a no go for a lot of insects. If we're talking major allergic reaction, I'd bet good money on that."

From one of the couches Sam tossed a few popcorn kernels at the other, "Do you even _have_ any money?"

Lang gave him a look, "Hypothetical money, okay?" There. His attention turned back to Banner. "Listen, Peppermint, Citronella, Eucalyptus." He counted them off, rather animated as he did, "All really bad for bugs. You mix that, over the course of two months then toss in fresh cedar and your run of the mill yard pest control and bam." Bruce listened, having heard bits and pieces already, it seemed far fetched, he hadn't believed it at first but Scott seemed convinced. "To someone who actually has spider DNA- I mean he does right?" he wasn't exactly sure, "That could all be really bad news. Also, can we talk about this?" He looked around, trying to gain attention.

Sam was on the couch with Clint in a nearby chair. Steve and Nat were across the way at the kitchen island looking over something spread out on the counter. Everyone seemed perfectly calm. Sure, Scott and the rest had interacted with the kid in Germany, but he'd assumed he just had some sort of fancy tech suit, much like himself. Not that he was actually super powered. "I mean is no one weirded out by the fact that the kid is part Spider?"

Steve tilted his head, "Aren't you Antman?" He knew the answer of course but was more surprised that Lang seemed so worked up about another bug.

Scott was still for a second before, "Well...yeah but I don't have ant DNA. The kid makes webs! Like, does that come out of him?"

"No." Sam called over from the couch, not even bothering to look away from the TV, "I already asked."

* * *

"Sir. You wanted reports on any activity that tripped our sensors?" The soldier wondered as he reported in.

"What do you have for me?"

"Tony Stark pulled a kid out of CPS's hands three days ago. Had his lawyers draft it up legally."

A kid? "What's the name?"

"Uh...Peter Parker sir."

Parker…"Put in a prisoner transfer request. Adrian Toomes." The line was cut then as he leaned back in his chair. Well, seems like the info Toomes had was accurate after all, now how to use that to his advantage to finally nail Stark once and for all?

* * *

 **So there we have it. Can I add a *dun dun DUN* to the end? Yes? No? I want to toss in some more fluff I have planned but ya'll seem to love Peter in danger so we'll see how things go.**

 **As always drop me a line and let me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Next chapter up!**

 **So everyone is saying they want more fluff…but the reviews come pouring in when there's a chance of Peter whump.** **XD**

 **As always, I am forever impressed and grateful to those of you who share even a few words of support or even constructive feedback in the reviews.**

 **I've mentioned something, especially highlighted in this chapter and I'm wondering if I'm the only one to ever notice it. Tony Stark sniffs. Like…It's a personality quirk of his and I love it. Hopefully it comes across well and I'm not the only one who noticed it. Seriously go back and marathon movies he does it in all of them. Usually when he's being serious about something.**

* * *

Peter woke late the next morning to find Tony gone. Bruce was there checking him over and couldn't hide his smile at the way brown eyes searched the room for the missing man. "Don't worry, Tony just stepped out." Peter didn't speak to confirm he'd been looking for the missing man, but he did nod slightly. Bruce ran him through a few coordination tests, all of which Peter passed with ease. Similarly, his bloodwork and body scans showed there was little reason to keep him in the medical wing any longer.

In addition to the regular once over Bruce also asked Pete about some of his Spiderman specific abilities. A tablet offered out which Peter managed to hold onto even with his palm flat and upside down. Yes, it seemed that being removed from the harmful environment had his powers were returning. Bruce made him promise not to do anything crazy and to take it easy when he left which Pete agreed to around the same time Tony came in.

The man looked far better, face clean shaven- save for his iconic goatee, and freshly changed in jeans and a black ribbed shirt that seemed to proudly show off his nanotech housing. Peter was a little jealous, he hadn't had a shower since he arrived, even if the medical team had bathed him to remove any foreign contaminants- and that was sorta embarrassing so he didn't want to think about it.

"Hey kid! How're you feeling?" He wondered, a bundle of clothing set on the bedside for him.

"Good." The simple but honest answer as he took at look at what had been brought, a t-shirt that appeared too big for him and simple gray sweats with the Avenger's A on it along with some house slippers.

"Good." Tony repeated, "Bruce are we clear?" He wondered, not wanting to delay in springing the kid from the medical wing, no one ever wanted to be there after all.

"Uh yeah, Pete just put this on okay? It'll help me monitor you in case anything happens." Which he didn't think anything would, but it was always a possibility. The Fitbit like bracelet was offered out and Peter dutifully put it on. The little screen display showed the Avenger's A on it and he smirked. Naturally this was all Stark Tech and designed to be so much more than a regular monitoring device.

"Alright kid, get changed and I'll give you the tour." Tony offered before he and Bruce stepped out to give the kid some privacy.

"What? Mr. Stark, can't I shower first?" If he was going on the Avenger Tower tour in pajamas at least let him be cleaned up.

"Don't worry kid, you'll be fine, tour now- shower later." He groaned as the door shut when the two adults stepped out.

Outside Bruce fixed his friend with a serious look, "No Subfloors Tony. I'm releasing him but I still want him to take it easy. Tony. Tony promise me." The other gave, exasperated.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Fine. You know I wasn't going to just toss him down there or anything. Honestly. You people have no faith in me." He gave back in an 'I'm offended' tone of voice, one he'd perfected over the years.

"Tony. You brought a fifteen-year-old to an all-out Avengers throw down…"

"Yeah, shame on Cap for not surrendering when there was a helpless minor involved." Bruce only sighed, sometimes Tony would never see reason, it wasn't a battle worth fighting.

Whether or not Peter could overhear their conversation was unclear, the teen simply opening the door when he was changed. Tony looked him over, Jesus...the kid was swimming in the shirt. Tony wasn't exactly on the tall side but at least he had mass to him. The kid was scrawny, there was no other way to put it. At least in that shirt he was.

"Alright, come on. Tour." Tony beckoned and Peter followed with a quick 'bye' to Bruce who waved them off.

"So this is medical, and across the way there is Bruce's personal biochem lab. It's small but private and you're not allowed in there right now because apparently the stuff in there will kill you dead." It was where the samples from the group home were being stored to be worked on. "But, once we're done with those tests and the lab is decontaminated I'm sure Bruce would love to see your webs and help you develop new ones." Some of the samples were already in testing in one of the lower labs but Tony wasn't taking Peter down that far. Straight to the elevator they went, the doors parting for them on cue as Tony led the way in, "My floor Friday."

"Right Boss." Came the polite answer, Peter noticed there were no buttons on the elevator, so that meant the AI completely controlled it. They only went one floor down before the doors opened into a sleek and expansive living space. Everything here screamed 'Tony'. Peter felt out of place. There was no other way to describe it. Everything from the decor to the tech to the furniture was sleek, tech forward and perfect. And here he was in his frumpy sweats.

"So this is my level." He motioned around the impressively large space and then over towards the floor to ceiling windows that showed the New York skyline below the impressive Tower. "I decided to move up here to get away from the peanut gallery. Man needs some private space. I still have access to come and go in the suit." A flick of his hand showed several glass panes sliding open revealing the smaller landing pad. At one time he used it to exit his suit when that was still a relatively manual process. With his nanotech it was no longer required but still allowed him to come and go as he pleased in the suit without having to drop down to the floor below. "The larger platform below is the landing pad for the Quinjet." It made sense at least.

"Nice right?" Tony wondered, Pete only nodded. He was impressed, for sure, and maybe there was a time when he would have geeked out over what was available, what he was seeing. Right now he felt hollow. Seeing how Tony lived did nothing to stop him from worrying about his own uncertain future.

"Are you underwhelmed?" Tony had to wonder. Where was the excitable teen who was amazed with everything he had to offer? Constantly impressed and the ultimate fanboy? The somber teen that walked with him now was only a ghost of his former self.

"Huh? What? Oh…" Peter blinked from his thoughts, "No...no Mr. Stark that's not it." He tried to amend quickly, stumbling over his words. "This is...it's great. Seriously. I mean...Ned's whole house isn't even as big as your living room…" Let alone his and May's apartment, which he no longer had to call home. So where was home?

"So what is it?" Tony wondered, head tilting to the side and eyes squinting just a bit as if Peter was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

"It?" Right, if he wasn't underwhelmed, why then wasn't he overly impressed? He shook his head, "Nothing...Really it's nothing." Quick Peter! Think of something plausible! "Just hungry I guess." He shrugged. Tony observed him for a few seconds longer and Peter resisted the urge to squirm.

"Alright." The billionaire finally declared, "Since my cooking skills mostly top out at ordering take out… let's head downstairs and get you something." He made a motion and Peter followed the man back onto the elevator to head down one more floor.

Peter knew he wasn't being a great guest. Tony was showing all this to impress him and he just couldn't bring himself to be impressed. He was too worried. What did his future hold? He'd wanted out of the medical room because who really wanted to be stuck in one? But now he wondered what that meant for him.

Stepping out of the elevator Peter followed Tony as he led the way into an equally large space that clearly spoke of being lived in. There were still high-end items everywhere, from the electronics, to the furniture, but it seemed more homey in Peter's opinion. Maybe that was simply because the ridiculously large TV was on, playing some random show and he could see the backs of a few heads over the back of the couch. Tony led him towards the left however, away from the open space of the living room and straight towards the expansive kitchen. This too was huge. Was everything here crazily oversized?

Tony knocked on the island counter, causing Steve to look up from his current task, "Kid's hungry." He motioned to Peter who blinked. Was Tony actually asking Captain America to make him lunch? He hoped no one could see his embarrassment.

Before he could protest Steve nodded, "Pete I'm making club sandwiches, sound alright?" He wondered, the captain already done with three of them having all the necessary items spread out of the counter.

Peter nodded. In truth his comment about food had simply been meant to explain his lack of enthusiasm. He felt too nervous to eat and yet, when a plate was nudged in front of him with a ready to eat sandwich on it, he couldn't help but dig in. Steve had several made already and continued using the rest of the bread loaf and supplies. At first Peter wondered if Steve was making lunch for everyone, after all Tony stole a sandwich too. When Peter finished his first the billionaire moved another one in front of him he nodded to the teen, "Eat up."

Peter glanced between the two and Steve offered a smile, "One drawback to being super enhanced." he offered before taking three of the sandwiches for himself. Any hesitation was gone then and Peter dove into his second sandwich. He had to admit, real-not hospital food, was amazing. Especially since it was enough to actually fill him, not that he'd been hungry during his recovery. Still, there hadn't been nearly enough at the group home to keep him full.

"So what are you two up to?" Steve wondered as they stood and sat at the island.

"Tour. Showin' the kid around. Bruce forbade me from showing him the sublevels, for now." Steve merely rolled his eyes.

Peter watched with interest, for a moment he forgot how embarrassingly he was dressed, seeing Ironman and Captain America here, talking and eating sandwiches. He got to watch it all.

"You know Rogers. I got a barber, could take care of that thing growing on your face." Tony teased, motioning to his now once again perfect facial hair.

Steve rolled his eyes, "You don't like it? Thor approves."

Peter couldn't help himself, "Thor's here?" He wondered. He'd never met (or faced off against) the Asgardian. The attention turned to him when he spoke up and Peter felt like shrinking back.

"Uh well, he's on Earth, but he's not 'here' here. Why kid, you crushin' on him?" Tony teased and Peter groaned before trying to hide behind his sandwich.

"Ignore him Peter." Steve offered, giving him the best piece of advice he could about dealing with Tony's snark. Peter only smiled.

When the meals were done the teen was ushered onward, he'd tried to move his plate to the sink to wash it, but Steve merely waved him off, letting him know he'd take care of it, and that it was no problem. Tony made a sassy comment to both of them, reminding them that they owned a dishwasher and the dishwasher could take care of it.

After he'd moved along, crossing the space and seeing that the living room was so much more than a few couches and a tv. It was a massive space with a club sized bar to one side, a pool table, dart board and more. Yes, this area seemed far more alive than Tony's private floor.

"Alright, Spiderling. Consider yourself lucky. Only me, the Avengers-" He paused in thought, "And housekeeping." Yeah that was accurate, "Get to see these rooms. All designed by me of course and perfectly tailored to the needs of each and every Avenger." Leading the way Tony moved down the hall with Peter in tow. Even if he was worried about his own future he was curious to see how they lived. The battle waged on within between wanting to be excited for the experience, and also to avoid drowning in panic at his own situation.

The first door they passed had an iconic shield on it. "Three guesses kid." Tony offered dryly and at least that got a smile from the teen. "Each room has a biometric scanner to keep people out...but we're all pretty chummy so no one really locks their doors." He shrugged but showed Peter where the scanner was just beside the door. Looking down the row of rooms he could see that each of them was similarly designed.

"Get ready to step back in time." Tony offered before the door opened and they moved into Rogers room. Peter was impressed with several things. The size for one. Everything in the Tower seemed so...oversized. Steve's room, Peter was certain, was bigger than the apartment he'd lived in with May. Tony was prattling on, explaining how each room had a bedroom, and their own living area that doubled as an office space. Each one designed to the specific needs of the Avenger. For Steve that clearly meant a lot of wood, or at least, the tech was more subtle here. He still had Stark issued devices here and there but everything had a more rustic feel, even down to the couch.

Of to one side there were stacks of canvas and other art tools scattered about and Peter took it all in. It just seemed right this seemed like a place Steve would take comfort in. Peter did too, in a way. He loved things high tech but he also loved the simple things in life, a place that looked and felt like home, not some high end hotel.

Tony, for his part, noticed the teen's lack of...well just himself, his normal, run at the mouth inability to sensor himself or control his outbursts. It was troubling but only time would help the teen recover.

After Steve's room they ducked into Clint's and Sam's after. Both bird themed in a hilarious way. Clint had been on the team longer so his room looked less like a bird's nest than Sam's did but both still sported little signs from Tony.

Peter also noticed that the more senior members of the team had larger spaces while the newer Avengers rooms seemed to be more moderately sized- even if they were still huge compared to his old room.

They didn't look in every room, but they did pass doors which reflected all the team members logos in one way or another. There was a door with a spider on it, but it was clearly not his- the iconic Black Widow marking was impossible to miss.

Even though his hopes were dashed at not seeing his sigil and thus, knowing he had no place here, he at least gave a half smile when Tony showed him Scott Lang, or Ant Man's room. "Yeah I know, little on the small side but he shouldn't mind right? Should feel lucky I didn't stick him in a shoe box." The room was ridiculous. The walls and furniture all themed to give the appearance of being a giant Ant Farm. Peter felt bad for the other hero but it was overshadowed by growing worries of his own living arrangements.

Tony had said it was his fault Peter had ended up in the group home...but he hadn't exactly told him where he'd be staying now that he was doing better, Peter was too scared to ask.

"Alright." Tony gave, breaking him from his thoughts and concerns. "You know, I was hoping to get more out of you, but clearly you're tired and in need of a nap. I expect more excitement when I show you the sublevels later." Passing the teen on the way out of Lang's room he patted him on the shoulder. "Come on." Peter followed dutifully, silent but confused as Tony stopped them in front of another door that had no logo.

"Hop along cottontail." Tony ordered when the teen trudged along after him. "Here, hand up. On the scanner." He motioned stepping back and letting Peter move forward, cautious but doing as told.

"Biometric scan complete." Came Friday's voice and Peter took in a sharp intake when the door just, just changed. Not the whole door but at eye level where the rest of the logos were, his own spider came to life, etching itself into the surface of the door.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked over to Tony, the older man smiling. There he was, the excited, hopeful teen he remembered. Peter continued to stare and he finally rolled his eyes with a motion, "Well go on. Check it out."

Peter didn't need to be told twice stepping through the door before freezing in his tracks. It was so much to take in. He was pretty sure his heart stopped entirely, and he was completely unaware of Tony standing behind him, enjoying the sight of Peter seeing his room for the first time.

The walls were a more subtle blue, not as dark has his suit but still close to that shade- it was easy on his eyes. Accents were in red but they were few and carefully placed throughout the space. Clearly thought and detail had gone into making sure his room did overwhelm his heightened senses.

It wasn't just the color scheme though, his gaze lifted. His room. _His room_ \- Was about as big as Scott's (which was still larger than any space he'd ever had to call his own), on the smaller side compared to Steve's, but it was two stories tall. Here on the floor with them was clearly his living area, a couch, an obnoxiously large wall TV complete with more game systems than he could count. His bed, however, was elevated up on a free standing loft of sorts, even higher and on the opposite side a platform containing a desk, but it was weird, there appeared to be a normal set up on the platform but underneath it was...was there an upside down computer station?

He glanced back to the older male, so many questions crossing his features. Tony smiled with a motion, "What are you looking at me for? Go on."

Peter didn't need to be told twice. Despite each platform having a discrete set of stairs or a ladder to reach it, Peter didn't need to bother. He leapt straight up onto the bed platform, higher than any human could feasible jump. "Oh my God." He gave, instantly seeing his Spider sigil on the embroidered bedspread. The bed itself larger than one he'd ever owned. A queen? Maybe a king? "Oh my God…" If he sounded like a broken record he didn't care.

Peter barely spent ten seconds on the bed platform before he'd jumped across the room even higher to the desk. "Whoa...Mr. Stark! This...This is amazing!" He gave, looking over the three monitor setup. His laptop was here, the one that had been taken from him at the group home, and like everything that came out of that house it had been very thoroughly cleaned. Tony hadn't gotten rid of it but did make sure Peter had all the best upgrades available to him.

He leaned over the edge while Tony leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching the teen jump from one spot to another, looking at everything. At the highest part of one corner there was a web like netting and Peter gave Tony the most adorable head tilt of confusion. "Kid. I have seen some of the videos from your suit. You have this freakishly adorable need to make yourself web hammocks. I figure since those dissolve, you might want something more permanent."

"Really?! No way Mr. Stark!" True joy, he hadn't felt this in so long.

"Yeah just be careful, Clint is addicted to crawling through the framework of the Tower so he might invade your little nest to make it is own.

"Oh my God." Peter was still in shock as he leaned over the desk platform, "Mr. Stark is that…?"

The billionaire nodded, "Upside down work station? You bet. It's all linked so it works together, I don't know if it's because of your mutation or you just being weird but let's be honest, you find excuses to hang upside down sometimes. Figured it might be something that helps you think." No different than Stark baring his music loudly.

Attached to the desk platform there was a simple and unassuming door. Out of all the features Peter could see in his room it was rather bland but after he'd had a chance to see everything, it drew his attention. It was about on the second level of his room, didn't that mean…?

Clearly his confused expression caught Tony's attention, "It's a door to my floor." He answered simply, as if the logistics of the place didn't give that away.

Peter was, he didn't know what he was. Slowly he slipped under the railing for the desk platform, letting himself down more from his abilities than actually climbing down the ladder normally. "Mr. Stark I…" He started, voice far calmer now.

"What? Don't like it? Too much? We can change it." The older man motioned with a sniff as if completely unaffected either way.

"What? No! No no. Mr. Stark it's great, it's perfect." Peter lifted his hands to wave; as if to ward off any thoughts Tony had of changing it. "It's just...I...I didn't expect, well, any of this." He let slip one of his fears and Tony watched him closely for several seconds.

Peter didn't know what to think, when Tony looked at him like this. He did it every now and then, ever since they first met. The billionaire would just stop the conversation and watch him. Peter always thought Tony was looking for something that wasn't there, in reality Tony was always just flabbergasted at the kid, at the fact that someone like Peter actually existed and he got to know him. He'd meant what he said before, Peter was supposed to be better than them. Than him.

"Okay." He decided suddenly. "Pop a squat kid." He ordered, motioning over before moving to sit on the couch. Peter seemed to shrink into the overly large t-shirt and sat himself down on the coffee table facing the other.

Tony sniffed thumb brushing the space between his nose and upper lip. It was a subconscious gesture, just one of many mannerisms that made him tick. It was a subtle hint that he was being more serious, switching gears. "Alright Spiderling." He gave, hands moving to his knees, patting the fabric there, almost nervous one might think- but he was Tony Stark. Tony Stark did not get nervous. "We gotta talk, but what we really need, is for you to ask and me to answer." He'd tried before, with the question game, and even before that when he'd took the blame for everything that happened. None of it gave him good insight into the kid's mind.

The billionaire knew the teen in front of him could handle upwards of twenty tons- he'd seen it, but he still looked so small and fragile in this moment.

Peter fidgeted, gaze anywhere but on Tony. The silence lingered and stretched and the longer it went on the more antsy he felt.

So many questions, so few answers. The room, did it mean he could stay forever? He wanted to believe so but he'd had his hopes crushed in the past. Subconsciously one of his knees bounced in place, eventually shifting as resolve broke. "I don't know...Mr. Stark…" Where to begin? The most straight forward question would be whether or not he could stay permanently but he was afraid to ask, fearful of the answer.

"Did you like...steal me?" it was almost squeaked out.

Good Lord Tony would need to work with him on his confidence, seriously "I'm sorry did I? Did I _steal_ you? First, I believe you're the only thief between the two of us." If his comment about taking money was to be believed, "And second, you can't steal a person. Care to try again?"

Peter was flustered. Embarrassed and guilty about having taken money and being called on out it, but more so because he knew what word Tony wanted him to use and it would only play into the whole 'Peter Parker isn't an adult' theme.

"Uh…" He hummed as he thought, "Did you abduct me?" Ha! There, Tony rolled his eyes as the kid preened.

"Okay, nice word choice, but for the record kidnapped is way more points in Scrabble." Peter gave a confused look, wondering if Tony really knew that or was just making it up. "Moving on. No. I didn't abduct you. We've got Rogers to thank for that- but you ever mention that to him and I swear kiddo, you'll wish you'd never been born." Threat sufficiently given, he continued.

"Anyway. No. If you want the truth, I had documents forged to show May gave legal secondary guardianship over to me. That meant I could take you freely and if the state wants to make a fuss I'll be able to ask why they never alerted me, as the legal guardian in her absence, of your situation in the first place."

So Tony had broken the rules to make it happen. "My end goal is to help you file for emancipation. Funds have already been moved into accounts with your name, you've got a paid internship with a commitment letter from Stark Industries to hire you on full time at the moment of your choosing-hopefully that's after college." He scratched at the back of his head then, "Even got a loft here in midtown in your name- with a cosigner of course." So he had a living space, employment and funds to live on his own.

Peter tried to take it all in. "So...so when it's done. That's...that's where I'll live?" He wondered, hesitant, was all this just temporary. He knew what emancipation meant, something the lines of being able to live on his own, an adult before he was legally 18.

Tony blinked, "What? No. Of course not, don't be stupid." The billionaire half snapped before realizing who he was talking to and resettling, "I mean...Pete. If you want to live there, sure, by all means. We'll have to furnish the place though." Currently it was just a shell loft, empty and used only for the address. "No, Peter. Listen to me. I know I haven't given you all the best reasons to believe me when I say this, but kid, I don't want you going anywhere. Alright? You think I gave any of those other yahoos access to my floor? No. And for good reason." He glanced towards the door that led to the Avengers floor, "Mostly because they piss me off." He sighed, realizing he probably wasn't making any of this very clear.

"Truth is- and I know I haven't made this very apparent kiddo, but I do like having you around."

Peter had to draw in a breath then, at hearing it, out loud. He tried very hard to keep himself together, realizing his fingers had found the hem of his overly large shirt and begun messing with it. "Mr. Stark?" A dark eyebrow raised as the older man gave his attention to the teen. His voice was soft, not accusing, almost fearful, "Why didn't you come get me?"

* * *

 **So there we have it, another chapter down, can everyone just feel Tony cringing with that hesitant question from Peter? Peter's too kind to be angry and so he's scared to ask and that's just going to eat at Tony's soul more than it already had. XD**

 **Hopefully I did okay explaining Peter's room, it might not be functional for any normal person but Pete isn't normal and Tony's known for his theatrics right?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Alright! This chapter is mostly Iron Dad Spider Son with some real quick cameos. Little heavy, little fluff.**

 **Thank you for those who have reviewed, it really means a lot. I don't want to be one of those authors but I do want to for warn. I'm perfectly fine but my sister is in a rough spot so I'm trying my best to be there for her and to support her.**

 **I have most of this story roughed out (which is how I was able to post so many so quickly) so never fear, it's basically done, just gotta polish them up.**

 **So there's that. Reviews will always brighten my day and would truly be appreciated.**

* * *

Tony sighed, a long dramatic sound as he snapped his fingers before smacking his hands together. The billionaire had trouble sitting still for any length of time really. Downside of being a genius he always needed to be doing something with his hands.

The teen across from him was staring, waiting for an answer, looking as much or more worried than Tony felt.

"Yeah okay. So, I'm gunna tell you what happened, but none of that is to try and somehow make you think I'm not guilty, okay half pint?" Peter didn't really understand but Tony could see that clear as day in his expression. "I'm the one that screwed the pooch this time. But I think it's fair that you know what happened, so you understand that I would never, _never,_ let you go through that alone."

"I called…" Peter had said so before, during his breakdown, but clarity wasn't given other than Tony accepting fault.

"I know you did champ." Did Tony's nicknames for him ever stop? "And Happy- You know Happy's not at fault here. He heard what you said, the first part, about talking to me about the suit. He was out of town so he just called me up, asked me to handle it." Happy Hogan was not responsible for this, only Tony was. "And I did, I tried to you know? I had Friday play it but…" he sighed, "You know, before I heard what happened Strange whisked me away to deal with the fact that Thor was bringing about a thousand Asgardians who needed asylum to Earth, including Loki. And you know what? I forgot. When I got back home Peter. And this is on me, I forgot."

It hurt, knowing how he'd spent the last two months, how he'd grieved, alone, without anyone who truly understood everything he was experiencing, but there was some minor relief in hearing that Tony hadn't just brushed him off- as he'd feared.

The teen was looking down, not meeting Tony's gaze but that was fine, Tony wasn't sure he could stand to see the sadness in those brown eyes right now. "You know between that and trying to get the others cleared from their crimes I just…" he shook his head, "I didn't remember it and all the protocols I had built, all of them- God. Do you know I have an entire server dedicated just to you. To your AI, to fail safes, to watching the news for any sign that you might be in over your head. All of that and nothing, none of it took into account what happened if you weren't being Spiderman. Can you see how I screwed up?"

Peter thought about it. He knew Tony had lots of programs and systems in place, all of them designed to protect him when he was Spiderman, to make sure he wasn't taking on bad guys out of his league. "Everything was programmed to look for something." An injury, a headline, a data point, an AI alert.

Tony nodded, "Exactly. I wasn't looking for the absence of information." Of Peter not using the suit at all, "Like I said, that's all on me Pete. Cause you know what? At any point I coulda just picked up the phone and called. Coulda just dropped by to say hi. But I didn't. You know why? Cause I convinced myself it was better that way." he shook his head with a laugh at the irony. "Who knows, maybe it still is." Was it really better to be here with Tony? He wasn't exactly the best role model around.

"I knew you wanted to stay a secret, the masked hero. Couldn't really do that if you and me were seen together and so were our alter egos. The public might be easy to manipulate but they aren't stupid. I figured the best thing for me to do was to stay as far away as possible." He clicked his tongue over his teeth, "So that's it." He made a motion with his hands for no real reason but simply to encourage Peter to let him have it.

The boy was still, other than continuing to play with the hemline of his shirt in absent thought. There was some relief in what Tony said- never a thought that the other would lie to him. Tony hadn't known, regardless of whether or not he should have, he didn't. When Tony had learned what happened, he'd taken off to rescue him immediately. It wasn't what he'd feared, that Tony wanted nothing to do with him.

It wasn't that- but he was still uncertain, "So… So Mr. Stark...I can stay?" He questioned, his voice still soft, still unsure.

Tony stared at him. Lots and lots of work on confidence. "Do you remember when I had Happy drive you up state?" He wondered, Peter nodded slowly. "Invited you to the team, you thought it was a test, so I just rolled with it, cause, ya know, I don't like being turned down and all. You remember?" Again, Peter nodded. He did, it was around the same time Tony announced that he was keeping Stark Tower.

"Kiddo, that wasn't a test. That was real. I was ready for you to be a constant little thorn in my side then-" Peter's expression shifted at the comment, so Tony continued before he could speak, "And I still am now, okay?"

Peter was silent for a moment, considering. "Mr. Stark?" Tony hummed in question, "What if...what if I didn't get my powers back?" The question was clear. Would Tony still have a place for him? Who did Tony want around, Peter, or the Spider.

Yup, that's it, he's signing the kid up for self-esteem classes immediately. "You want the truth?" He questioned, Peter nodded, "Absolute truth? No lie?" Peter nodded again, yes, yes he did.

Tony sighed again, scratching at the back of his head and trying to figure out just how he'd landed himself in this whole mess of a situation. Not just with Peter but all of it. Asgard, Avengers, Accords. He found that none of that-while important, really took his attention, no his mind was solely focused on the teen who appeared to be shrinking the longer it took him to answer.

"Hear me out." He started, Peter blinked. "Kid when I first came to you I needed Spiderman- but I wasn't about to uplift just any vigilante nor slave away over multiple suit upgrades for just anyone. What you said to me Pete- about having powers and bad things happening? "The teen nodded, "I know what that's like and kid, the fact that you're… that you _are just a kid_ and you've got this weight on you…" He shook his head.

"I almost wish you weren't Spiderman. And yeah, that means we never would have met, but what we want isn't always what we get so you are Spiderman, and you're stuck with me. And Pete, if you lost your powers tomorrow I'd just force you to help me build you a suit that would give you your powers back." He mimicked the teen's usual tendency to ramble, "Ya know...If you even want. Hell you wanna go back to being a regular kid no problem. You wanna live here or the apartment or Aruba. Kid you name it." He waved his hand.

Tony paused, gaze clouding as he thought back over all he'd just said, "I guess that doesn't really answer your question."

Peter offered a lopsided smile, "No...Mr. Stark it does. Thank you."

Tony tilted his head, eying the teen for a moment as if seeking the truth behind the words. After a brief pause he seemed satisfied. "Okay champ. Why don't you get a shower, get cleaned up and changed? I got one more thing to show you." Tony shifted off the couch then, moving to stand and patting Peter's shoulder as he went by, "Meet me in the common when you're ready."

Peter nodded, watching Tony leave before ducking into one of the doors on the ground floor of his room only to discover it to be a large, but mostly empty walk in closet (bigger than his room at the group home).The other door thankfully led to the bathroom. There had been a few clothing options in the closet and apparently in the right size too so he snagged them before moving back into the bathroom. He swore he wasn't as scrawny as people thought but when they put him in clothes two sizes too big it made him look tiny.

As it would turn out, the bathroom was also not tiny. It was huge- huge by his standards anyway. Especially since it looked like a private one, not one he shared. There was a full standing shower with way too many settings and showerheads, even a soaking tub he figured he'd never use. Did everyone have one of those? And why was there a freaking Spiderman themed rubber duck perched on the corner of said tub? It was a spider duck. Seriously?

Out in the common Tony moved to drop onto one of the couches, smirking as his move caused Nat to be bumped a bit. She glared over at him for a minute before, "How's he doing?"

Tony sighed before nodding, "Good. Better. Physically. Ya know, we'll just have to see how emotionally screwed up I made him." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Did you put him down for an afternoon nap?" Barton wondered from nearby, taking a drink from his beer and not taking his eyes off the tv screen.

Tony snorted at that, yeah the kid was young. The rest of them had been well into their adult lives when they'd come into their...their what? Super lives? Something like that. No, not Spiderman, he had to be a teen, as if puberty wasn't hard enough on its own.

The billionaire took a moment to glance around. "Where's everyone else?" He wondered.

"Sam and Scott are in the sublevels. Steve went for a run I think." Clint shrugged, it wasn't as if he was keeping track of everyone all the time.

Tony nodded, "How are the hatchlings?" He wondered, teasing Clint about his own family.

The other finally offered a smile and glanced over, "Good, getting big. Laura wanted me to bring your head home on a pike you know." He chuckled, it hurt, the time he lost away from them, but it was the life he'd picked. "I figure going back with fully funded college funds will make her happy." Tony lifted an eyebrow but smirked a moment later. Of all the things he'd spend money on, that would be no issue.

He had the money and then some, sure there might have been a time and place when others had felt awkward about it, but they'd quickly overcome their unease around the rate at which Tony spent funds. Tony had, at one point, when trying to convince Steve to let him buy the man a decent ride, had threatened to spend an equal amount of money on something extremely stupid if the soldier turned him down again.

Steve had declined, and Tony had purchased $70,000 worth of bird seed which was delivered on a weekly basis, one pallet at a time, to the blond with a message letting him know that he could go be an old man in the park and feed the birds.

It was a cautionary tale.

"So what's fatherhood like?" Clint questioned, clearly teasing given his own father status.

Tony snorted, rolling his eyes. "Can it bird brain." He was no one's father.

Only a short while later Peter emerged. Still sticking to sweats and a tshirt but now wearing clothing far more suited to his build. Clint glanced over and Tony could see sharp eyes appraising the teen, studying. "I don't think we've met." Well, they had, sorta and Peter's flickering glance said as much. "I'm Clint Barton." He continued smoothly, waving from the couch, keeping it informal and not bothering to stand or shake the kid's hand, no need to make it awkward.

"You can call me Nat, little spider." She gave from near Tony with a smile.

"Peter." He answered, "Peter Parker." And that was that. Unlike most of the Avengers, Clint and Nat both had their starts far earlier in life, the father in him might not want to see any kid in the middle of a battlefield but the master assassin within knew there was little he could do to change it. Not really his place anyway and from what'd he'd seen, the kid had the raw power to put him on his ass if he wanted to, even if he didn't have the training to match Clint's skill level.

"Alright Underoos, let's go." Tony offered, not letting the teen have a chance to sit as he pushed himself out of his seat and headed back for the elevator. Peter followed, curious but not worried. After their talk he felt better, the worries and doubts were there still, but held at bay.

"Fri, one floor down." Tony announced, keeping his secret for as long as possible. Peter looked over with curiosity but didn't have to wait long when the doors slid open to an expansive workshop. Brown eyes widened as he stepped out, forgetting his meekness for a moment as he moved to the railing. They were on one level but off to the left there were stairs down into a larger workspace. There were two luxury cars parked randomly- Peter's brain couldn't even process why there would be cars this high up in the Tower (or how they got here). The higher level seemed to be full of tech, computers, 3D monitors and Tony would later explain that it was where he did most of his planning and developing- Basically the R in R&D. The larger space below was for the second half. Development, fabrication.

Work stations littered the area some with half-finished projects. He managed to tear his gaze away for only a second to look back at the billionaire who smirked and nodded, "Go ahead." Was given with a flick of his hand. Eyes widened a second later when Peter launched himself over the railing and straight down to the floor below without using the perfectly good stairs. Bruce was going to kill him.

"Oh my God. Mr. Stark!" The rambling continued as Peter ran from one spot to the next, touching and not touching everything, all but humming with excitement. He circled the main work area before his gaze was pulled to the display cases with several of his older suits. Tony moved down the stairs as Peter continued to rush around. The older man hated people in his lab. He really did. It was his domain, his sanctuary. His retreat. There were a select few who could venture in, but rarely did he enjoy them lingering for long. Bruce was about the only one he could stand to have in his workspace for more than an hour and they were Science Bros. If they were working on separate projects they tended to keep to their own labs as they had extremely different work ethics. But Peter…Well in Tony's mind Peter didn't count as a person (and persons were not allowed in his lab for long). No in his logic, Peter was a kid, and he didn't have feelings on how long a kid could stay in his lab so his rules remained in place. That was that.

Tony knew this about himself. He knew that while he'd developed as a person over the last decade or so, he still had a laundry list of character defects and one of those was the fact that he didn't really like to share his things. So why did seeing Peter in his workspace seem so right? He was probably setting them both up for a big let down but he couldn't help it, the teen was so…

Well here he was getting all philosophical, but Peter was everything Tony wanted to see right in the world. He was kind. He was in so many sickeningly ways like Rogers it wasn't funny. But he was also smart, impressively so and Tony wanted to see that side of him, see what Peter could accomplish. All bragging aside, Tony had become the genius he was in spite of his father. He'd done it alone and look at all he'd accomplished...He couldn't even imagine what the teen could do with actual support and guidance.

"-What?" He blinked.

"I asked which armor you're using." Peter repeated, rocking on the balls of his feet by the display cases, motioning to them at the same time.

Tony smirked. He was flashy, he loved to show off, he wanted everyone to know when he was in a room and how smart/strong/amazing he was. He was Earth's self proclaimed best defender. All that and more and yet, with Peter he didn't want to put on a show. Tony couldn't really explain it himself, it was subconscious, but he uncurled his arms from his chest as he stepped closer, waving Peter over to one of the workstations, "Come on, lemme show you kiddo. Big upgrades." He pulled a stool out to sit on before lightly kicking another for Peter to hop up on as he pulled up schematics for his darkly dubbed Bleeding Edge armor. Tony had to ignore the way peter put both feet on the stool, sitting perfectly balanced in a crouch to observe.

"Mr. Stark...are you using nano-machines?!" Tony smirked, he didn't need to double tap the housing on his chest but it was a habit and it served as a distraction. If he did it every time he called his armor forward no one would realize just how ingrained the nanotech actually was. It didn't respond to the physical tap but rather to signals from Tony's neuro-synapses. His very thoughts. After the tap he held his hand out, calling the armor out just along his arm and down to his hand while Peter watched, wide eyed.

Hands reached out before the teen glanced up in question. Tony had always hated being handed things, he had other quirks about personal space, some of which he'd overcome but not all. Still, with Peter he nodded, letting the teen run fingers over the enhanced arm, flipping his arm over so it was palm up to study the repulsor on it.

"But Mr. Stark...there have got to be…" He paused, because yes, Peter was actually doing a calculation and not just throwing out a random large number, "What...close to a trillion? Are they just programmed to on off and follow normal suit functions?"

Tony chuckled, just to answer Peter's question he pulled his arm free before letting a blade form from the armor, "Fully moldable to suit my needs." The teen stared, it was clear he was considering the amount of programming and advancements that would be necessary to have the endless possibilities Tony had with this armor. The teen's gaze flickered from the armor to the billionaire's features clearly piecing together the only possible way for Tony to have instant control over the moldable suit.

"Come on kiddo. Don't think too hard, Bruce will kill me if you have a stroke." Peter was still silent as Tony let the armor retreat back, "Besides. I think that's enough about my armor. How about we talk about your suit." For that he stood, moving over to one of the other stations where he wiped the unopened mail package, tossing it to the teen who caught it easily with advanced reflexes. "And just how you got it back here." Peter gulped.

* * *

 **So there we have it! I know this chapter recapped a lot of what we already knew- the things that kept Tony away, but I didn't feel right glossing over it, I needed to give Tony the chance to explain and for Peter to understand. Hopefully the emotions in the scene kept it from coming across as a pointless recap.**

 **Reviews make me smile.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Special note with this one.**

 **Great news is that most of this story has a skeleton already written out. Some of you praised me with how quickly I've pumped out updates but it's really because most of the story was already written and just needed some polishing up.**

 **On the down side. Over the last week I'm working with a dog who possibly needs ACL surgery, a sibling possibly looking at divorce and my basement flooded with the recent storm. Joy's of being an adult. I'm a glass half full sort of person (when I'm not being completely sarcastic and vengeful) so I'm handling this best I can but there may be delays just do to other timely obligations.**

 **Don't mean to spill my life in this author note but I like to set expectations when possible. Send love and positive vibes :)**

* * *

Fast reflexes had allowed him to easily catch the package but had he known how the conversation would turn he would have ducked and dodged it like a hot potato.

"Uh...Mr. Stark-" The older man held up a hand before Peter could really start to word vomit.

"Easy kid, I'm not mad. Well. I am, slightly. Really I don't know if I should be proud or worried that your multi-million dollar suit made it all the way to my mailroom without being detected." He moved back to settle himself on the stool while Peter set the package down. Since the teen wasn't quick to open it, Tony tugged it back to do just that.

"So you said it was wear? Rooftop?" Peter nodded, "What were you keeping it in?" He wondered, talking over the sounds of the package ripping before pulling out the high tech synthetic fabric.

"Uh...I had to sorta, just wrap it up in another shirt, I didn't have time to find a bag or anything." Tony nodded, Peter sounded disappointed in himself, but Stark didn't much care about how the suit had been stored. It certainly showed some weathering- the suit was meant to handle much more than some rain but exposure to the elements in such a fashion and well, mold was possibly an issue. Still, Tony didn't react with distaste to any discoloration or damage.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark…" Peter gave, and he was, God it was so easy to hear in the kid's tone. He could only imagine what was running through his head at the state of the suit.

"Oh? How come?" Tony wondered, tone asking as if he were clueless.

"The suit...It's ruined, I even tried to put the mask on to link up to Karen before I sent it but…" He shook his head. Tony gagged.

"Oh God kid...Ew, no wonder you were in such a crappy state...Better have Bruce check you for black mold." Tony exaggerated, just to try and lighten the mood a little, but also because it was seriously gross. The suit was strong but anything that came in contact with humans and then was left exposed to the elements was bound to grow some sort of bacteria. Bleh.

"I figured you'd be sorry about the whole monetary theft part."

Peter blinked. Oh. And then he squirmed. "I...I didn't really know what to do. If I had more time I figured I could try to...to I don't know walk dogs or mow lawns, collect pop bottles…" Yeah the kid had a heart of gold. "But I had to get the suit off the roof and then I knew the longer I tried to hide it in my room the bigger the risk so I…" He looked down, "Mrs. H and I were home when everyone else went out for the day." Peter too under the weather to go, "And I just...took the money from her purse. I figured I'd...I'd make it up to her somehow, you know, return it when I had time to make the money back." Tony's gaze went to the roof, honestly this kid was far too good, it hurt.

"Mr. Stark?" Tony glanced over with a hum, watching Peter pick at the flat work surface in a nervous gesture, "Is there any way I could, ya know, like...do some work here?"

Tony was scrubbing his hand over his face now, it was just too sickeningly sweet. Seriously, he was getting a cavity just sitting by the kid. Elbow on the table he turned his head in his hand to look over at the teen, "This Mrs. H. She run the place?" He already knew the answer, he'd had Friday give him all the details, Nat too. Peter nodded, "The place that poisoned you, almost killed you, and you want to work off the what?" He looked at the postage, "Twenty you stole?" Another nod.

Tony suddenly sat up, startling the teen with the quick movement before he drummed his hands on the table, "Alright tell you what. Let's start with getting this suit into decontamination. You might never need to wear it again, but I'd like it restored for display at the very least." Moving to stand again he instructed Peter on where to get a biohazard container for the suit so it could be sent to the appropriate teams to handle. He really didn't think it was dangerous- but it was a little gross and so only the best cleaning process would suffice.

While Peter boxed up the old suit, no doubt wondering what Tony meant about not wearing it again, the older man moved, ordering Friday to open '17A'. When they met back up at the table he set the heavy container down, "Okay, should have had the superkid carry the heavy box…" He chuckled causing Pete to smile. "Ya know, after you turned me down, and agreed to stay in the little league, I figured I'd just hold onto this until you were at least Seventeen...But considering your other suit is gross and by the time you grow up this will all but old tech, I figure you might as well have it now."

Peter blinked and Tony made a motion, "Go on. Open it."

The kid was smart enough to figure out how to open the container which was rocket propelled mind you, meant to be mobile like any of his suits. Inside a smaller capsule in iconic colors rested within with an elongated version of his spider logo on it. Peter blinked, "Is this?"

"The new suit? Yeah." Peter lifted it, feeling the heavier weight compared to his first Stark issued suit, "It is...it collapses in on itself?" Tony nodded, letting Peter look it over. "I'm guessing…" There it was, "Biometric?" Another nodded and was that some sort of pride from Tony? Pride at his device most likely.

"Yeah I figure this way as much as I love your little buddy Ted-"

"Ned."

"Whatever, I'd really prefer if you and you alone were the only one in the suit." Cheeks reddened, Tony knew about him letting Ned try on the suit? "I have a big enough issue sharing my toys." Let alone them being shared a second time.

Before Peter could apologize Tony tapped the table again, "Well go on, let's give it a try."

"Are you sure? Doctor Banner-"

"Isn't here and said I couldn't take you to the sublevels. Sorry kiddo you're not going to get to do much experimenting with the suit today but at the very least you can try it on." What harm could that do?

Peter found the little clasp that doubled as a biometric scanner, thumbing it and watching the tech move instantly. "Whoa…" He stood, stepping back but the tech moved with him, almost reaching out as it unfurled up his arm and across his chest.

In seconds he was enveloped within, glancing over the HUD when a familiar voice called out, "Hello Peter. I have missed talking with you."

"Karen!" He exclaimed in excitement and Tony blinked, gesturing to himself, what was he, chopped liver? This was his fault for making a kind and supportive AI for the kid, he should have made one sassy just like Jarvis and Friday.

Peter rolled his shoulders, "Oh man Mr. Stark, this suit...It's heavier."

Tony hummed, "Well yeah, with the amount of times you get shot at- _with alien tech_ \- I figured I'd beef it up a bit. Feel okay? Notice any restrictions?" He circled the other as Peter moved, poking at the teen with a screwdriver just to watch him twist and turn, testing the suit.

"Not at all Mr. Stark, wow this is awesome!"

Tony sniffed, as if unimpressed, "Of course it is. It's my tech. How about wall crawling? That's always a tricky one. Let's see what you got." He requested. Finding a material that was strong and yet allowed Peter's sticky fingers to work was a careful balance, one he was still trying to work out with the next suit still in development. One that happened to be made from a super rare and super strong material gifted to him by Steve on behalf of a King so he never ever ever visited the country for some reason. Tony couldn't imagine why, he was great company.

"Oh, lemme check." Peter backflipped, just because he could and also for science, right? To test the suit. Closer to the wall he jumped up, clinging instantly and it felt good, no slipping. "It's great!"

"Good. Hands and feet are the weakest points in your suit, obviously, had to compromise the structural integrity there to make sure you can well, spider around."

The next hour or two were spent with some minor testing of the suit, the HUD, new features that were installed, running the suit through anything and everything they could without actually putting Peter in any sort of field test situation. Peter did question if the training wheels program was installed and Tony gave a flippant comment back asking if Peter would just hack it again, before throwing a wrench at the teen which he caught with ease.

Reluctantly Peter had removed the suit so further diagnostics could be run and only Tony's promise of working on his web fluids had caused him to remove the suit. Truth be told Tony hadn't originally planned much of this, a few minutes in the suit and then he had originally planned on turning the teen loose in the Tower. Time had flown by though, enjoying the interaction with the teen. He might be a goodie two shoes like a certain Captain, but he was also beyond intelligent and the hero worship that fed into his ego was enjoyed. Hearing the disappointment in Peter's voice when he told him it was time to take the suit off had the older man thinking of any reason to linger in the lab longer- so, working on web fluids it was.

Working with Tony on the web fluid was surreal. Peter had made his own and Tony had made hundreds more off his original designs but being able to work with Iron Man himself on them was amazing. With unrestricted access to the machines and the chemicals needed they developed a dozen new ones in the span of just a few hours, testing several out with the new web shooters he had. Peter brought up redesigning the reload method- getting the empties out was easy but loading wasn't. It wasn't usually a problem but he could foresee a situation where having to stop to reload would be an issue. They talked out a few different reload functions and options, from storing the extras along the arms of the suit, to having them line Peter's waist so he only needed to smack his wrist against the sarcastically named 'utility belt' to have a new one insert into the web shooter.

They hadn't landed on a final design but a growl from Peter's stomach had the billionaire taking pause and glancing to the clock. "Alright. Let's take a break, get you fed before Bruce Hulk's out on me for starving his patient."

Peter was relaxed, the longer they spent together the easier it was to feel comfortable around the other. "I'm not starved." Another rumble in his stomach betrayed him.

"Yeah well maybe I'm hungry, you ever think about that?" Tony teased back, some part of him wanted to reach out and ruffle the kid's hair- just because he could. He resisted the urge, it was weird.

"So what'll it be? See what leftovers are upstairs or order out?" Whatever had been had for dinner had likely been had a few hours ago.

"How long for take out?" Peter wondered, considering his options.

Tony fixed him with a look, "Thought you weren't starved?" A light shove then as they headed to the elevator.

Peter smirked, "Not starved, just famished. Friday, is that a better score in Scrabble?"

"It is Mr. Parker." The teen beamed as the elevator doors slid shut.

Just as they stepped back onto the Avengers mainfloor Friday chimed in, "Secretary Ross on the line for you Boss." Tony sighed and Peter looked up to him in confusion. A hand dropped to the teen's shoulder, steering him forward and towards the large kitchen where only a red head currently resided.

"Nat? Can you feed the kid?" He wondered and she smiled, pulling out a few foil covered plates, shoving one directly in Tony's hands regardless of his wish to not be handed things.

"Only if you eat." He gave her a look but rolled his eyes a second later in defeat.

"Kid, I'll see you in a bit." he offered, heading off to the elevator to return to his own personal space in order to deal with the man he was slowly but surely removing from power.

Peter blinked, glancing to the elevator, the fridge, Nat, and then he did the whole cycle again.

She smirked, "Hello little spider." She offered, voice smooth and inviting, pulling out one of the high top chairs and patting it. Watching the doe eyed teen move to sit. She returned to the fridge and drew out the foil covered plate that had been left for him. Steve, honestly, didn't cook all the time but he had today and made sure to leave good portions for the team's new teenage spider.

As she went about moving it to the microwave it wasn't lost on her that Peter was watching her closely. She smiled once the uncovered meal was warming up, turning to face him. Unlike some of the other members of the group she had more experience with kids, granted they were just Clint's kids but still. "Did you have a good day Peter?"

Peter blinked, he was being addressed by Black Widow. Or Nat as she'd introduced herself earlier. He nodded, "Ye-Yeah. We uh...we worked in the lab, it was actually really awesome." He knew she was deadly if she wanted to be, but they were on the same side right? And she was warming up his dinner, he didn't feel scared, more just nervous.

"So, Let's talk about you trying to steal my name." She laughed when his eyes went impossibly wide. "I'm kidding Peter! What would you like to drink? We've got…" She turned again, looking over the options, "Coke, diet, Apple juice, Orange juice, water, all the best gatorade flavors…" She trailed off looking over.

"Coke please. You...you know I can handle dinner on my own...right?" He questioned cautiously, watching her smile as she pulled out two red cans, offering one over to the teen.

"I know, but everyone is off doing their own thing, and I'm bored and figured we could get to know each other better. You know, team Spider."

"Oh." That was actually not a bad idea, he was curious. "Were you bit by a spider too?"

She blinked at him, "Is that how you got your powers?" Granted she was a spy, she'd seen the file but it was always best to get information from the source. He nodded, explaining that it was a radioactive super spider but still. She confirmed back that she had not been bit and while she was better than average, she wasn't really enhanced.

Eventually the mircowave dinged and she'd check that it was well heated before setting the plate down in front of him. Chicken, veggies, and a heaping pile of rice that Peter didn't wait to dig into as Nat moved to sit across from him. "Easy little spider, there's always more." She chuckled, making a note to ensure Tony didn't starve the kid in the lab again.

Sheepishly Peter paused, taking a drink to wash down his last bite. Thinking, his fork pushed around a bit of rice on his plate. "Hey Miss Widow?" She smirked, "How come…" He fidgeted, if only all her interrogations were this easy to crack, "Why does everyone do that?" Her look clearly asked the question for her, "Call me those things 'kid' 'kiddo' 'little spider'..." He shrugged.

She figured it was mostly Tony using said nicknames as she didn't think the teen had encountered many of the other's long enough to have it bother him.

"Because you're you." She offered back, "Because most of us aren't used to dealing with children normally, let alone ones that can stop and lift moving cars." She shrugged, watching him eat as she sipped at her drink. Like most of the team she had mixed feelings. He was young, so very young and yet, where would he go? Was there really a good reason to berate Stark? From what she knew he'd been doing his vigilante bit long before Tony came along and with Stark tech he certainly was better protected. Besides, she was a teen once, she could only image someone telling her not to do something, it was all the more reason to do it.

Peter continued to eat but it was easy to see he didn't exactly understand or accept the answer. She shifted, drawing his attention, "Some advice?" He perked right up. Were they sure he didn't have puppy DNA? "Forget the fact that you're stronger than half the team. You're young and you're working with a group that are used to saving the world. They look at you and they see everything they work so hard to protect. They don't see Spiderman, they see you, Peter." Peter listened, it seemed like she was speaking from experience. He wondered if that had anything to do with being the first (and for a long time the only) woman among their ranks.

"For starters, understand that no matter how strong you get, no matter what you accomplish, you're always going to be a kid to them. Doesn't mean they don't respect you- or what you can do. Doesn't mean they don't trust you. But, that also means you need to earn that trust."

Peter thought he knew, "I tried that, I tried to show Mr. Stark with the Vulture…"

She smiled, "I read the file." She had, the second she'd seen the horrified look in Tony's face she'd found everything she could, "That sort of thing isn't the way to get what you want. You want them to treat you like an equal member? You have to show them you can hold your own. In a way that is responsible and works with the team, not worries the team." He looked adorably confused, " _Not_ by going off on your own and trying to take on the biggest guy out there, but by playing by the rules. Trust has to be earned, slowly, bit by bit."

"How?" he wondered, meal mostly eaten and forgotten at this point.

"You train, you listen. You don't sneak out- I know you haven't yet but I was a little spider once too." She smiled at the protest that died on his lips. "You accept when you're told that something is too much and you wait, you'll get the chance to prove yourself. Remember that if they don't want you on a mission it might have nothing to do with you being you. There are larger things at play."

"The Accords?" She nodded.

"For starters yes."

Peter sighed a little. He supposed he understood. He was sure Black Widow could kill him faster than he could web away and yet if chaos struck right then and there his instinct told him to protect her. "Thank you. Miss Widow."

She chuckled, "Alright little spider. Lesson one. You can call me Nat. Natasha. Romanov, any combination thereof, but let's not ever let Tony hear you call me Miss Widow okay?" He smiled and nodded. Seeing him more relaxed and now full she turned the topic to something far more interesting. "So come on, show me your skills Spiderman." Everyone wanted to see him stick to walls, to climb, and now he could even web given the work he and Tony had done in the lab to replenish what he'd been without for months. His old suit was being washed and cleaned but he still had his web shooters though he only used it once to show her, too scared to damage something despite her lack of concern.

Tony never returned but Peter wasn't too bothered, others trickled in and after showing off a little (then subsequently cowing under Bruce's disapproving but completely interested look) they settled in to- of all things, watch a movie. He spent his first medical wing free night watching a movie with half of the Avengers.

Tony was nursing a drink. He did that occasionally, it was an old fall back. There was less drinking and far more nursing now than in his past but it was a hard habit to completely kick. He was sitting, slouching back really, and staring off at some offensive spot on the wall.

Steve was leaning against the desk nearby. From the outside it was easy to see that both men were in serious contemplation, knowing who they were it was easy to assume it was some world ending problem. It was, well, at least one person's world that could end.

"So what's the play here Tony?" Steve questioned eventually, the problem had been laid out in front of him and while Steve was used to calling the shots every good leader knew when he had to listen, to lead from the ranks.

Tony gestured with a hand in a wide motion, "Kill Ross?" Steve's look alone vetoed that idea. "What? Tell me it wouldn't make our lives easier." A brief joke on a very serious concern and Tony shifted gears, "What do you want me to say Rogers? Ross knows about the kid and he wasn't exactly coy about it."

Steve nodded, he'd heard the playback of the earlier conversation between genius and government official, "He does, but right now all he's got are threats. Accords don't cover domestic acts and that's Spiderman's MO." Germany aside of course but that was before everything had been ratified.

"Ross threatened him!" Tony barked out, Steve could feel the rage within the other, he could hear the hum of the nanotech wanting to do something, anything to right the wrong. Ross hadn't outright threatened Peter or Tony, but he had made it clear that he knew who the teen was and that Stark ought to be careful lest he find himself on the wrong side of the Accords for weaponizing a non-combatant. Steve didn't respond to Tony's outburst and the other calmed if slightly voice still deadly and serious, "I don't like people messing with my stuff." Because apparently that included Peter. Not the point right now.

"So we keep him close." Steve answered.

It was what Tony needed to hear and the billionaire glanced up as Steve spoke his very thoughts. The dark haired man echoed words he'd heard before.

"Safest hands are our own."

* * *

 **So there it is.**

 **Ya'll continue to prove that the best responses are from chapters with Peter Whump so while this isn't direct it's continuing to drive the plot forward until it's a matter of time before our favorite Spiderling is in trouble.**

 **Send love and reviews :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ouch! So big delay on this one. I am sorry. Sort of a Fluff and Stuff Chapter. Life has been...life. Basement flood has subsided, demolition is under way. Ripping up tile makes me oddly feel like Stark- working with my hands on a project. At least that's what I tell myself to get through it.**

 **Reviews are always appreciated!**

* * *

Life with the Avengers seemed oddly normal. Okay it wasn't in any way shape or form. They were certainly all characters in their own way and he'd been shocked more than once by a random object being tossed across the common room, a broken tv from an antic, or other random acts that did not happen in normal life- but over all, they were just people.

Clint was a little odd but overall Peter found the man to be supportive and he'd even say, humorously, the assassin kept an eye out for him whenever they were around each other. Someone mentioned Clint had kids of his own, so to Peter, it made sense and while he wanted to be seen as the hero he was (or thought he was anyway) he appreciated it. The same thing went for Scott Lang. Scott was far friendlier than Clint tended to be, making a point to always say hi to Peter, striking up random conversations now and then. He learned very easily that Scott had a daughter of his own; but didn't get to see her all the time due to reasons, he could tell the man loved his daughter though and would do anything to be in her life.

Others he saw but less frequently. Steve was around- he didn't cook many more meals so a lot of what they had was take out or Scott's poor attempts at cooking. As it would turn out, most of the group were horrible in the kitchen but one or two nights they managed- taco Tuesday was apparently a very important tradition and they figured it out. Sam was around but mostly seemed to work with Steve on...whatever it was they were working on, so he didn't get much chance to interact with either of them.

He saw Bruce daily, even though he kept the medical band on, the other wanted to check up and make sure he wasn't suffering any lingering effects. He did get to go to the other's lab at one point, Bruce wanting to run an allergy panel on him against diluted oils and other potential allergens. Thankfully it seemed that a candy cane wasn't going to kill him any time soon but Bruce warned it was best to stay away from essential oils shops just to be safe.

"Hey Nat?" Peter wondered. He was in an overly large shirt and sweats, both printed with Ironman logos, it seemed most of his sleepwear was themed. He was a bit embarrassed at first until he saw that most of the others were in similar states, from Scott's ant covered sweats to Sam's shirt with three Falcons and a moon background. Black Widow hummed, focused on the stove where she and Peter were trying their very best to cook pancakes. The aforementioned men were seated at the island waiting for the fluffy goodness.

"Where are the others?" She blinked, glancing over and made it clear she was wondering who he meant. Steve and Tony? Or well, the others?

"You know. From Germany, I saw some others, I didn't really get their names...but like, there was a guy with a metal arm-" He blinked, stopping at the tension in the room. He didn't need his Spidey Sense to know he might have hit some sort of nerve. Wait, had people died? Did they not tell him? The battle was...it was serious right? But...but no one died did they?

He was blinked out of his inner panic when Natasha brushed some of his messy hair away from his face- he hadn't brushed it just yet. "Don't worry, everyone is okay. Bucky- the one with the metal arm? He's getting help from some friends. The others…"

Sam snorted, trying to help ease the tension when he too noticed the teen reacting to their sudden silence on the matter, "Are probably off eloping. Trust us, we don't want those two love birds around." Vision and Wanda, it was sweeter than the pancakes dropped in front of him, drowning in syrup.

Nat smiled at him as he poured out more batter while she plated up and serve the first round to their taste testers. If the batter was deadly they'd go first before she or Peter ate any. "This is one of those topics best left alone. It's not that you shouldn't be 'in the know' but it's still a bad blood sort of topic." Nat was always the one to help explain things in a way that Peter understood without feeling like he was being talked down on. "Especially with Tony and Steve. When they're ready they'll talk about it with all of us, you aren't the only one in the dark." He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not.

Time went on, no one died from their pancakes, he got to know the others better and better each day, Peter had even talked with Ned- a Stark issued smart phone having been one of the several items on his desk- the first text that had been on it a snarky comment from Tony about this phone never getting shut off as his other phone had been under May's plan. Speaking with Ned was a combination of picking up where they'd left off and also realizing just how upside down his life had become. Ned made him promise that they'd meet up soon and Peter agreed. With Nat's words in the back of his mind he made sure to warn Ned that he'd only be able to do so when it was okay to leave the Tower.

He wasn't sure if he was on house arrest- he hadn't done anything wrong, but he knew they were still worried over his health. Bruce had given him the all clear but Peter wasn't exactly sure how or who to ask. Did he have to ask permission from anyone to go visit his friend? Did he come and go as he pleased?

The one drawback of the first week was Tony's absence, it was a bit of a let down- He'd enjoyed their time in the lab and had grown used to having the other almost constantly at his side while he was recovering. Peter didn't think he'd done anything wrong to warrant Tony pulling away but it felt like a repeat of Germany all over again. Tony had given him access to his private floor but Peter found himself too nervous to venture up uninvited or mention it to any of the other residents.

When Captain America and Ironman ventured into the common room one afternoon the teen perked up but tried not to look too eager or interested. For all he knew they were just passing through as they'd done before, stopping for food before carrying on with whatever they were doing.

"Hey champ. Heard Brucie gave you the all clear?" Peter nodded, glancing over the couch towards the kitchen where Tony moved to get a drink before looking around, "Where is everyone?" It was oddly quiet save for the tv on that Pete had been watching.

"Training." Steve answered, most of them were anyway. Rhodey was still off in D.C. and Scott had left to visit his daughter. Bruce was likely off in his lab.

Tony blinked, "How come you're not with the rest?"

Peter tried not to get hopeful, "I...can I?" Tony rolled his eyes and Peter resisted the urge to smile at the man's antics.

"Okay this is not some 'Mother May I' situation. You're cleared, you have Karen and Friday. I thought you were smarter than this?" His tone didn't sound upset at all, but he gave the other a look, "I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed." Nope, Tony wasn't upset if he was cracking jokes.

"You sure that's wise?" Steve wondered. They'd been working on a lot this last week, some concerning Peter but there was a much larger game to be had surrounding the Accords. Making sure they kept the teen off the playing field was critical.

Tony snorted, "Training rooms. Not taking him to the frontline. Tell me you aren't curious to see what he can really do?"

Steve sighed, because yes, he was. He'd seen Spiderman in action in Germany and he was impressed. He could tell then that the kid was limber and fast- when he'd dropped the walkway from above he'd completely expected Peter to dive out of the way not iicatch it and hold it up. It had made him pause, made him more interested in learning a bit more about the masked spider. Knowing Tony's possessiveness he doubted the kid was going anywhere soon so like any good soldier and leader it was important for Rogers to know exactly what Peter could do and handle. Germany had been only a small taste.

"There you go kid. You heard that Star Spangled Sigh. Go on. Suit up. Chop chop." Tony clapped and Peter all but vaulted over the back of the couch. He didn't need to be told twice and was off to the lab where Friday granted him access to retrieve the new suit. He mentally called it his Iron Spider suit but would never be caught dead saying that out loud.

When he returned to the elevator it opened with the two heroes within, Peter joining them as Friday dutifully took them down, down beyond the lobby. Peter blinked at the digital display that showed them going to S7. Were they underground?

He glanced up over one shoulder than the other. Steve offered a reassuring smile and Tony, an all knowing smirk.

Stepping off the elevator it seemed his suspicions were confirmed with the lack of windows. Steve took the lead and Peter followed, advanced hearing picking up the sounds of-

"Hey little spider." Nat offered as she, Clint and Sam met them from another hall. "Bruce is on his way."

"On his way?" Peter blinked, the suit capsule tucked under his arm.

"To see you in action." She smirked.

Tony's hand landed on his shoulder and were it not for his Spidey sense Peter would have jumped for sure. Guiding the teen forward he took a few steps down a branched hallway while the rest went to the right, Tony moved him to the left. "Alright kiddo. Suit up, head down the hall and around the corner. One door, can't miss it, puts you in the training room. Don't worry, we'll go easy." He winked, and Peter could only nod.

Suddenly he felt very on the spot. He'd jumped at the chance to train, to do something more than just hang out. He wasn't literally climbing the walls, but he wanted to. Now he had his chance, but everyone was going to watch? He groaned at his luck but none the less activated the suit and felt it wash over him. "Hey Karen."

"Hello Peter. Are we going on patrol?" Her pleasant voice questioned.

"No... just training. Everybody's watching so it's sorta a big deal." He offered nervously, bouncing from one foot to the other and shaking his hands just to loosen up and try to brush away his nerves.

"I understand, I'm certain you'll do wonderful."

"Thanks Karen."

While Peter readied himself to enter the training room, the rest had gone off to the control room. Sub Level Seven was several stories tall in total. The training room- their largest one, it had been built and designed before the facility up state came into play and was meant to allow the team a chance to work in groups while not limited by space. To say it was large was an understatement. Peter would enter at the lowest point having followed the door down the ramp and into the room. The training room stretched up several stories and likely went for several city blocks in any direction. The control room was located all the way up for a perfect skyline view of all the action below. The only reason they didn't call it the nest was due to complaints from the resident birds on the team.

Tony was the last one in but the first to move to the controls. No one wanting to be the one that set up a simulation that ended up hurting a teenager. "He's not in yet?" He wondered, glancing around the currently empty space. Clint confirmed that Peter hadn't yet entered and Tony smirked, "Well then, let's give him a surprise shall we?"

"Tony." Steve warned, "Go easy on him." But there was no real heat to his tone. Tony might mess with the kid but Rogers knew Stark wouldn't put him in serious danger. Even in Germany, while it could be weighed as a bad idea to bring Peter, his mere presence and introduction at the beginning of the battle had set the tone, had prevented the Avengers from seeking blood and Rhodey's injury was far more than any of them had wanted.

Bruce arrived about the same time Peter entered and Tony's fingers flew over the controls. He could always just order Friday to run whatever configuration he wanted but it was so much more fun leaving suspense in the area, even if the others would be able to see what he was doing with a quick glance over. Before the billionaire could lose his patience, Peter entered, glancing around the mostly off white empty space, a hesitant wave sent up to the control center where he could see them all through the thick protective glass.

Nat couldn't hide her smile at the awkwardness of the kid and did, out of concern, look over at what Tony was dishing up. This was no cartoon, there wasn't a simple one to ten scale of difficulty, this was one of Tony Stark's inventions and as such, it went above and beyond anything else ever before seen. The room could be programmed for different skills, aerial battle, ground, a mix. It could focus on attack, defense, stealth and more. Any endless number of combinations, durations, and intensity; only once all parameters were entered would they be told the skill ratings. Broken down by category then averaged out for a total weight.

One to ten wasn't enough so the scale went to a hundred, with that, theoretically being the battle to end all battles. The highest they'd ever gone was mid seventy as a team. They could push for more but that would risk serious injury and wasn't something the team wanted to do in training. Depending on what skills were maxed out, any one team member could usually handle up to a level thirty in the fields they excelled at. For Clint and Natasha those were stealth, Thor power and so on. There were some exceptions with their super powered team members so while the numbers gave them some idea, in the end it was just a number that determined how likely someone was to be black and blue by the end of training and less about a numerical skill level.

"Alright kid, you ready to show off?" Tony wondered, speaking over the PA and watching the teen nod, giving them a thumbs up, unaware that they could all hear him via Karen interacting with the Pa system. Thankfully the AI only did so at appropriate times. Hitting the keys to activate the program, Tony smirked, ready to watch the fun as the room came to life. Random pillars, platforms and shapes came to life. Peter was standing on one section of floor as it began to raise up and he crouched down, fingers adding support as he stuck to the moving pillar, only leaping out of the way when it became clear this particular section of floor was going to rise up straight to the ceiling. He free fell for only a second or two before shooting a web out and slinging between moving pieces as the room adjusted itself.

"You know we're not normally there during this part…" Steve commented, blue eyes focused on the teen who reacted quickly to any flying panels, dancing around pillars as they rose up, sticking to any surface he landed on.

Tony shrugged, "He can handle it." And he could, with ease. Peter might not have had the chance to be Spiderman in several months but it was like riding a bike, you never really forgot how. The second the room finished simulation set up, a buzzer sounded and instantly drone enemies began launching themselves from various locations along the walls, floor and ceiling. Not too many, he did want to highlight Peter's talents, not overwhelm him, not at first anyway.

The group watched as the teen ducked, dodged, twisted around, webbed away from the various drones, not yet attacking with any sort of weapons but simply attempting to knock into the teen.

"He's good at running away." Clint commented, granted they'd seen more from him in Germany but right own, he wasn't overly impressed. Nat smiled.

Bruce hadn't been present for the big battle royale and wondered, "I was expecting…" he made a rolling motion with his hand, simply to indicate more. He was expecting something more. Steve was watching closely, gaze flickering to the control panel. Peter was handling himself well even if he was only defending. The program was set above the skill level of any trained soldier and was certainly in the 'super' ballpark.

Tony smirked and if anyone thought he looked proud they didn't comment, "Just watch." he offered before firing up the PA again, "Uh...Control to Spiderman."

"HEY!" Came the shouted and somewhat short of breath answer from the teen. "What's up Mr. Stark?" Was questioned after another flip through the air.

"Kid, you know you can attack right?"

"Oh uh...Thanks Mr.- Whoa." He practically ran up the side of a wall to get away from a pack of drones. "These look really expensive!"

"Are you joking?" Sam questioned, realization dawning.

"Uh, yeah, they are." Tony gave back, matter-of-factly, "But they're meant to be destroyed." Not to mention made of nanotech so they could never really be destroyed, juts torn apart and remade. "Don't ask again, just make with the Thwipping."

"Oh...Okay!" And suddenly the game changed. Peter stopped on top of a platform, he stopped running and the group collectively leaned closer to try and see what would happen. It was nothing short of impressive. Free to attack he made short work of the pack of drones nipping at his heels. Others were webbed into each other, still more led on a merry chase until he could pull one of the free standing platforms down to crush them. He gained momentum and sailed through the air, feet first as he slammed into a pillar and crashed it to the side on top of another group he'd rounded up and had in position to be crushed.

Everyone was watching Peter, fixated on the teen and his abilities. Steve found it hard to tear his gaze away but he'd had the advantage of fighting the teen in Germany, if only briefly. Whatever thoughts he'd had, the brow beating he wanted to give Tony for bringing a child...Peter could easily wipe the floor with half the team given the proper training. The blond managed to tear his gaze away, sharing one briefly with Sam.

The other soldier gave a look that seemed to say something snarky about the teen he'd fought overseas but Steve only smirked before his gaze settled on Tony. The other was calm, relaxed but focused on the teen. Steve didn't need to know that Peter slipped up, he saw it on Tony's features instantly, there was a yelp over the speakers but Stark had already launched into action, ending the simulation in an instant. Steve's gaze flickering over to see Peter tumbling to the floor and catching himself with the roll, ending with one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out, one hand on the ground in front of him for balance and to stop his momentum.

A few questioning gazes turned to Tony, after all it hadn't been a rough hit, they'd all suffered worse from the training room but the Billionaire pointedly ignored them.

"Good job kiddo." Tony called over the PA. "How about you hit the showers?"

"Really? Mr. Stark...I feel like I barely got warmed up, you know?" He didn't want to seem like a lightweight in front of the Avengers.

"It's cool kid. Don't want you showing them all your secrets at once, leave something to the imagination. Come on. Go wash up. How about we go out for lunch?" He was certain he'd never seen Peter move so fast. Blinking Tony leaned back in his chair glancing to the rest of the room, "It's almost as if he iidoesn't want to be around you lot…" If he was so excited about going out.

"Hey Mr. Stark?" Peter's voice still coming over the speakers even as he headed for the elevator.

Tony blinked, hitting the button to communicate with him, "What's up Spiderling?"

"Can everybody come?"

There was a roar of sounds from the group and one rather happy "BURN." Shouted from Sam as Tony gaze flatlined.

* * *

 **So there we have it, nothing terrible happened so we'll see what the reviews reflect ;) As always, prove me wrong, show me that fluff is just as appreciated as angst, otherwise all you'll end up with is tortured Peter.**

 **. unless that's what you want? It's certainly what Ross wants...**


End file.
